


Sleepwalk in Hell

by Vaerin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Drama, Fluff, Hallucinations, Insanity, M/M, Marriage, Mental Torture, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Oral Sex, Plot, Self hurt, Sex Toys, Sleepwalking, Threesome, Werewolves, broken brotherly relationship, glimpse of Demon Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 60,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vaerin/pseuds/Vaerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's words to Dean are the last straw.  His self destructive nature has consumed him, his mind reminding him of the demon sleeping within.  Deep inside, he truly believes his brother is gone.  Sammy is no more and he feels as though he's dealing with 'soulless Sam' again.  When his nightmares take the form of sleepwalking, the older Winchester performing the acts he did in the past, how will Sam react?  Will his eyes finally open to his brother's seriously broken soul, will he be able to save him?  Or will Castiel have to step in and raise Dean from the fires once again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Breaking Point

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize, but I've been too busy today to write another chapter to 'Angels Among Us'. Since I have nothing for that and I don't want to leave you all with nothing, I've started posting this fic =) I'm almost done with it, so you won't have to wait for chapters like the other one. I hope you like it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sam pushes Dean away, the older Winchester finally snaps. All his anxiety from his time in Hell manifests itself in the form of nightmares. He doesn't remember them when he wakes and he screams for Sam every night, but a feeling of despair is slowly settling within him. Sam is getting irritated with the lack of sleep and as they head out on a hunt, he wonders if he wouldn't be better off on his own for this one.

It all starts one night within the bunker. Sam Winchester, a six foot four male with long sandy brown locks, is sleeping at the time. Upon hearing his older brother screaming his name, hazel eyes pop open in shock and he stumbles from bed. Still half asleep, the other trips out of his room and down the hall a short distance. He runs a hand through long brown hair sleepily. Sam flings Dean's door open and leans in, finding his brother tossing about the bed. Dean's skin is covered in sweat, his shirt soaked through, and his face is twisted in the throes of a nightmare. With a sigh of irritation, he walks over and shakes Dean awake. That was the first nightmare, and they certainly don't get better from there.

The morning finds Dean cooking breakfast as though he didn't wake up covered in a cold sweat. The six foot one male is humming to himself happily, his short brown locks mussed from sleep and his iPod blaring on the counter next to him. Sam is confused, yet says nothing. He sits down at the counter and thanks Dean for the cup of coffee he automatically gives him. Without missing a beat, the older Winchester turns back to the stove. The spatula scraps along the pan as he moves the eggs around, the smell of bacon drifting in the air from the slices he's already cooked. He separates the eggs and bacon onto two plates, passing one to his six foot four brother before digging into his own.

“How'd you sleep last night?” Sam wonders carefully.

“... I don't know... crappy?” Dean shrugs. “I know I went to sleep, but I feel like I didn't get a wink. What about you? You rested up?”

“Actually, I was woken up around midnight by your screaming,” he comments in confusion. “You were having a nightmare and I woke you up, remember? Can you recall what it was about?”

“... A nightmare? You sure? I don't remember having a bad dream and I _certainly_ would've remembered you waking me up. Are you sure _you_ weren't the one dreaming, man?”

From the curiosity and confusion in green eyes, Sam knows his brother is telling the truth. Though he knows Dean was awake, speaking to him in panicked sentences, it seems Dean just can't recall last night. He doesn't bring it up again, just sips his coffee silently before eating his breakfast. Dean finishes before him, the energetic male clapping his hands together eagerly. Sam knows what's going to happen next... he's going to look for a job. Though he sees the bunker as his home, Dean still loves the open road and that'll never change.

The smell of books is thick within the library as Sam pulls one off the shelf. Dean is on the laptop, googling news articles and hoping to come across something interesting. Sometimes it takes a long while, sometimes it doesn't. Sam sits at the far end of the library, curled up on a leather couch, and listens to the keys tapping beneath Dean's touch. It's a comforting sound that he normally loves to hear. Besides that and the occasional rustle of a turning page, the room is dead silent.

“Hey, I think I got something,” Dean states. “Looks like a werewolf... or three.”

“Three? Are you serious?”

“I just don't see three people getting their hearts ripped out of their chests on the same night the work of one,” he shrugs. “What do you think? Worth the trip?”

“How many nights will we be on the road?”

“About three.”

“Then we better get going.”

Together the two pack a bag each and head for the impala. Sam is hoping the change of scenery will soothe Dean's nightmares... they both need sleep. Dean takes to the road first, leaving Sam to study the case in the passenger seat. It's an odd case, really, with so many victims on one night. The three were college students on a hike, murdered in the trees and left to be found by their friends the next day. He can't figure out why they would be targeted aside from opportunity. He's also unsure as to who may have committed the murders if not their friends.

Sam takes the driver's seat at night, allowing Dean to get some rest. That night the hunter struggles in his seat, screaming for Sam as though his younger brother is the only thing that can save him. It worries the other, but it also annoys him. This just proves his point of earlier, how Dean brought him back in a moment of selfishness. If Dean can't even have a bad dream without calling to him, how the hell does he expect to go through life without being glued to his younger brother's hip?

Dean doesn't remember his nightmare the next morning, he tells Sam as much when they switch seats at the gas station for the second day of the drive. They grab a couple coffees and some junk food to snack on, the two devouring some donuts before heading out. They have nothing to talk about, the drives having become a silent sentence after the fall of the angels. When night begins to fall, Sam glances over at his brother carefully.

“Dean, I think we should get a motel room for the night,” he offers. “Your bad dreams are getting pretty nasty, you're lashing out. You came pretty close to hitting me and I don't want to get in an accident because of it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he murmurs. “There's one up here.”

Without another word on the matter, Dean pulls into the parking lot and parks the Impala. They should still be able to get to the troubled town in a day or two from there, they've been making good time. While Dean grabs their bags, Sam heads in to get the room. He leads his brother back once he acquires the key.

The place is a dump, but what's new. The carpet has a nasty pattern that looks like puke, worn down to the floorboards in a couple places, and the walls are stained with god knows what. Dean's almost afraid to pull back the sheets in case of left over mess. Thankfully, they appear clean enough. The showers have rust stains that creep along the bottom of the tub, but the water pressure is good and the two take quick showers without it going cold. When they're dressed for bed, they lay down without a word to each other and turn out the light.

Sam starts awake around midnight again, growling in anger as his hazel eyes dart to Dean's form. He looks like he's in a fight with limited mobility, his head tossing before his body arches. He's screaming for Sam again, his voice pleading and almost routine... as though he's beginning to doubt the other is going to wake him. As he's done the past couple times this happened, Sam reaches over and wakes Dean up. The hunter bolts upright, breathing harshly and looking about him dazedly.

“What happened?” Sam wonders a bit sarcastically.

“They were everywhere,” Dean murmurs still half-asleep. “Everywhere... so many... so much blood... they were taunting... Sam's not coming... Sam's not coming... Sammy doesn't care... they're wrong... I know they are... they have to be...”

As he talks, Dean lays back down and drifts off again. His mindless babbling, however, has struck a cord of curiosity in Sam. He wonders just what his brother was dreaming about. The taller hunter considers using African Dream-root tea in order to find out... but whatever has Dean in such turmoil can't be good for visitors. Resigned to the fact his older brother won't remember this moment in the morning, Sam lays back down to sleep.

The morning is just like any other on a hunt, both ambling about as they rub sleep from their eyes and get ready to go. They wake at the crack of dawn, neither eager to start the day after the busy night, and Dean throws their bags into the Impala while Sam returns the room key. Sam takes the keys before Dean can slide into the driver's seat, sending him nothing more than an apologetic glance. He knows this is Dean's baby, but his eyes are barely staying open and he would like them both to survive this trip. With a groan of tired irritation, Dean relents and circles the car to get in the passenger side.

They arrive at their targeted town late that night, the older hunter struggling to keep himself awake. Sam parks the car and grabs their bags, wondering if he should just leave Dean to fall asleep there. The place is quiet and lit by fancy streetlamps, the cars lining the slots owned by those that aren't wealthy but aren't poor. The hotel stands like a tower, not the usual place the two would stay, and Sam is considering looking for another place. Dean staggers out of the car and heads into the lobby, his feet dragging from the lack of slumber.

“Hang on, Dean,” Sam calls.

He rushes over to his brother's side, making sure he doesn't fall in his zombie-like state. They really don't have a plan for the next morning, not yet, but Sam's positive it'll be pie compared to the night they're about to have. He gets the key to the room and leads Dean up to the second floor. The second they get into the room, Dean's crashed on the bed and Sam is soon to follow.

The next morning the two hurry to get ready. Dean's nightmares had them waking twice last night and they slept in longer than they would've liked this morning. Frustrated with the whole thing, Sam is about to give up on helping his brother. Maybe get a separate room, it'll make focusing on the job at hand easier so they can finish it faster.

They go about the day in silence, as they've been doing for a long while. After their initial plan is set up, they have little need to speak again. Sam is given the task of gathering information at the police station and Dean draws the short straw with going down to the morgue. When they reach the police station, suits pressed and laying perfectly on their muscular bodies, they introduce themselves to Sheriff Bradley Corbin.

“Hello, Sheriff Corbin,” Sam says politely. “I'm Agent Mason and this is my partner Agent Rahm. We've been sent to deal with the triple homicide that happened in your forest. If you could help us out in any way, maybe have someone lead my partner down to the morgue to view the bodies, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Of course! Jessica! Why don't you lead Agent Rahm to the morgue,” he calls out to a raven haired woman. “Don't get him lost like the last one, he's a Fed not a newbie.”

“Right, boss,” she snickers. “Come on, Fed.”

Dean follows her into a hallway at the back, glancing back to see Sam already digging into any files on the attack. With a heavy sigh, the older hunter hurries to keep pace with the woman leading him. Normally, he'd be all over flirting with her. She's curvaceous and sexy. This time, however, Dean just can't find it in him. He's distracted and he feels like every emotion he's ever felt has been sucked straight out of him.

Inside the morgue, he's introduced to the mortician. Her name is Eliza Sterling and she's the best at what she does. She's helpful, showing Dean anything curious on the bodies, and he's grateful for her assistance. After so many corpses, he would've thought he'd be used to all this... but this is just pure destruction. They were lucky they could identify the bodies. Though the chest cavity is torn open and empty, the werewolves didn't stop there. These people have been beaten to a pulp, their skin tattered and in some places completely missing from sharp claws. Teeth marks are dug in so deep he can see the scoring on the bone.

Dean pushes back the nausea he's grown used to at the smell of death and decay, breathing through his mouth as he studies each of the three bodies. Though the men are pretty bad off, the female corpse is far worse. He can barely look at that one. When he's gotten everything he can out of it, he bids Eliza farewell and makes his way to the front of the station. Sam is waiting outside for him, going through a list of names with a thoughtful expression on his face. When he hears Dean shout out to him, he looks up curiously.

“Find anything?” the younger hunter wonders.

“It's definitely a werewolf,” Dean sighs tiredly. “Probably a pack, though a small one. We should probably check out the scene of the attack, it might help us learn how many we're dealing with.”

“You go ahead and do that, I'll check out those present at the time,” Sam comments. “I got a list of names from Sheriff Bradley. Maybe they'll be able to give me enough on the victims to find a connection. This might be something more than opportunity.”

“All right, I'll meet you later.”

Sam watches Dean wander off toward the Impala. After the car pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street, the taller male heads off to interview those that knew the victims. He's not sure how much they can give him, but something in his gut doesn't like the idea of a kill of opportunity. With two males and one female down, there has to be something more there. In a college, there's _always_ something more. Dean wouldn't know that, because he's never attended. Sam, on the other hand, knows first hand just how tangled those webs can get. Each one is littered with gossip, rumors, and jealousy. Things can never be cut and dry like Dean's used to.

The first house he comes upon is that of Tina Cory, one of the students present at the camp. He knocks on the door and waits for someone to answer. Whoever lives here is rich, the place practically a manor, and he immediately knows he'll have trouble there. The woman that answers looks the part of every stereotypical snob, her nails long and painted and her nose up in the air. Her long blonde hair is twisted back into a bun behind her, her clothes brand name and as tight as a second skin. At the sight of Sam she turns from 'no nonsense rich bitch' to 'unfaithful cougar'. He represses the gag at the thought of her treating him like a pool boy.

“Hello, sexy,” she purrs out, rather badly. “How did you know my husband is on a business trip?”

“Mam, I'm Agent Mason with the FBI,” he sighs out. “Your daughter, Tina Cory, was present at the triple homicide last week. I have a few questions for her.”

“She's not home, but... you can interrogate me hard-core upstairs.”

“... Could you just have her call me when she gets back? It's of the utmost importance.”

She shrugs and takes the card he gives her, trying to make tracks quickly. As he turns to leave, her hand grabs his ass... far too close to his balls. He gasps in shock and hurries off, sending a glare over his shoulder at the forward woman. He wonders how much trouble it would be to alert her husband of her unfaithful mannerisms. Praying the rest of the names on his list are easier to handle, Sam hurries off to house number two.

Deep in the forest, wandering about the hiking trail, Dean stretches and yawns. He's exhausted. Though he's used to running on only a few hours of sleep, he feels like he's been going months on nothing at all. If he really is having those nightmares, they're taking away from his shut-eye... and his skill as a hunter. Right now, he highly doubts he'll be able to shoot straight if his target was two inches from him.

The hunter shudders at the thought, stretching once more before trying to pop his neck. The sound of nature all around him is making him drowsy. Birds are chirping loudly and the shade is cool on his skin, the sunlight streaming down in patches of warmth. A soft wind winds its way through the trunks, caressing his skin with promises of a sweet sleep should he stop to nap. Dean pushes off the temptation vehemently, focusing on his current task. He heads off trail, trying to find the crime scene from nothing but the sheriff's directions. It takes a few minutes, but soon he's stepping into a tiny clearing.

“Oh man,” he mutters. “This must be the spot.”

Green eyes fall upon a mess of blood stains and torn up earth. There was undoubtedly a struggle in this spot, the signs of the woman being dragged marked by her nails digging deep furrows in the dirt. He kneels down and picks up a designer press on painted hot pink. The werewolf obviously took their time with them, _someone_ should've heard them screaming. With brows furrowed in confusion, the hunter continues through the trees.

Sam's interviews were a headache at best, but he learned quite a bit. For starters, he's beginning to think he was right about the 'college web' theory. With an exhausted sigh, he pushes open the door to their hotel. It's nice, with two beds and hardwood floors. The bathroom is large enough, containing both a bath and a shower. He glances in and finds Dean crashed out on the bed closest to the door. In an attempt to wake the other, the younger brother slams the door shut... Dean doesn't even grunt in his sleep. His mouth is slightly open and he's drooling on his pillow. He no sooner steps halfway through the room, that Dean starts twitching in his sleep. With a slight frown, Sam watches the nightmare progress. The twitching is first, and then slight jerking in his limbs. Dean mumbles in his slumber, brows knitted close in anxiety, and he rolls onto his back spread eagle.

Breathing becomes a chore, each inhalation quick and sharp with panic. Sweat starts to bead upon the hunter's skin, soaking into his shirt in no time, and Sam wonders if he shouldn't just wake his brother. Before he gets the chance, a very uncharacteristic sound escapes Dean... a whimper. Startled, Sam stills and watches further. Though his arms and legs jerk, it's almost as if they're being held in place by something. Along with the buckets of sweat, Sam notes tears spilling from the other's eyes. Dean's whole body stiffens and he sucks in a deep breath, parting his lips to scream Sam's name.

“Dean, wake up,” Sam finally comments with a shake to his shoulder.

The hunter doesn't wake, though. Not this time. The screaming continues, Dean's body jerking on the mattress, and soon Sam's name is gone. It's just full on screams of terror and pain. The small streams of tears have evolved to sobbing and pleas. The taller male tries harder to wake his brother, worried at this happening during the day as well. Before it was strictly night, an event that never left the calm of the moonlight. If it's torn Dean's schedule up that badly, stole enough sleep he's nodding off during the day and immersing himself in these nightmares, something must be seriously wrong. He caught Dean napping yesterday, but the nightmares never touched him.

“Dean!” he shouts. “Dean wake up!”

“Please... stop... no more... please,” Dean murmurs through his tears. “He's coming... I know he is... he's coming... he'll save me... he... he.... doesn't care...”

“Dean!”

The body he's shaking goes limp, as though bitter resignation has finally taken hold, and Sam's afraid the other has died of fright. Carefully, he checks for a pulse and continues to shake Dean awake. When the other finally rouses, he wipes his wet face with the back of his hands in confusion. One glance at Sam and he knows he had another nightmare. Though he doesn't say a word more about it, Sam can tell it's beginning to bother him. He watches the shorter male head into the bathroom, discarding his sweat soaked shirt on the way.

Without even asking, Sam knows this is going to be yet another thing they won't speak of. It grates on his nerves, especially since he knows Dean is suffering. He never understood why the older Winchester insists on suffering alone and in silence, it's never done him any favors in the past. With a quiet growl of frustration, Sam sits down to busy himself on the net. Hopefully, Dean will have picked up enough from the scene for them to finish quickly. He's sorely tempted to call in Castiel, as the angel has been the only one capable of getting through to Dean besides Bobby.

“... It's just a nightmare,” Sam brushes off. “If it's really bad enough for angelic intervention, _Dean_ can call him.”

With that, he turns on his laptop and surfs the net until Dean finishes his shower. He's positive there's no supernatural creature at work in Dean's head, as the nightmares started in the bunker and they hadn't been on a job in a few weeks. With the angels back in Heaven and Crowley back on Hell's throne, things have been pretty quiet. His relationship with Dean has only suffered, though. Their 'work only' routine has nurtured nothing but tension between them. Sam only wanted it for their own safety... for _Dean's_ safety.

Being brothers only has them tripping over themselves to get killed. He's been trying to push Dean away so he's not so dependent on him for company. He knows it's in his older brother to live without him, he did so for a year, but it would seem Dean's taking it a lot harder than he had hoped. Sure he was pissed Dean saved him, especially when he was ready to take that final journey, but it doesn't change the fact that the older hunter would've traded places with him without hesitation if it meant Sam lived.

Dean stands in the shower, trying to calm his breathing as the hot water beats down on him. His heart is beating erratically in his chest, trying to force its way out. It's been a long time since the hunter felt this way. As he tries to calm himself down, he thinks back on the feeling he endured in that realm of half sleep. It was ominous and terrifying... he knows where he's felt that before. There's only been a _single_ place that made him feel so small, that broke him down to tiny pieces with whispered words of threat and buckets of blood. Dean remembers going through that in Hell.

The very _memory_ of that evil place has him hyperventilating. He slides down the wall of the shower, curling in on himself as he runs his hands over his face. He went through a lot of shit there, did a lot of things he's not proud of, and Sam only knows a tiny portion. The taller male can't learn everything Dean went through, he'll look down on the older Winchester. He'll never look at Dean the same way anymore. Dean can't let Sam see him as anything less than the strong brother he's grown to rely on, it's just not an option. With any luck, these nightmares will go away and everything can go back to the way things were. He may not be happy with Sam's growing rules list, but it makes Sam happy. Dean can hold it together for him, he won't break beneath the weight of this tension.


	2. Success Rate of a Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the end of the hunt rushing toward them, Sam finds that Dean's nightmares are becoming worse. Dean, on the other hand, is getting a rather good idea what they're about now. The hollow feeling within him has only plagued him once before. As he grows more irritated with his situation, Sam presses the idea of calling Cas for help. Though he refuses, he finds he has no choice when nightmares turn to sleepwalking... and he inadvertently calls the other. It's about that time Sam learns just how different Dean's soul is to others pulled from perdition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my wonderful readers! Today I'm going to Colossalcon, so this is the last update you get until Monday. Sorry about that. I hope you're enjoying the fic, I have even more to share with you... after Monday ;p I appreciate all the reviews, I love them so, and thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to send them =) Anyway, I still have stuff to finish before leaving. Until Monday! XD

The day outside is nice, the sun shining brightly and the world moving at a slow pace. It's a lazy day. There's the scent of incoming storms upon the air, Dean can smell it from the open bathroom window and he's excited at the prospect. Rain has always soothed him, though he doesn't know why. It reminds him of the angel that saved him many times in the past. The power of the storm, the scent of it, it all just screams 'Castiel'. Maybe he'll be able to sleep tonight.

He dries off and pulls on some clean clothes, opening the door to rejoin Sam. The other is already lounging about on his laptop, a favorite pastime for the taller male. Dean doesn't say anything, his every step calculated and searching. He's afraid Sam will immediately want to talk about his bad dreams. It's not a topic Dean's going to welcome, so beating around the bush seems like a grand idea.

“What did you find?” Sam wonders when he hears the bathroom door open.

“... It was at least two,” Dean mutters with a sigh of relief. “The camp wasn't far from the attack, they took their time with it... someone should've heard the screaming. What about you?”

“There were five kids in all,” Sam informs with a stretch. “The three victims were never friends with the other two, but suddenly they wanted to start hanging out. Their other friends thought it was weird, said the two that started asking them to join their fun were actually good friends with two other guys. I guess these three got on their bad side. The female used to date them both, but cheated on them with the other victims.”

“So... vengeance.”

“Why would two humans lure three people out in the woods to get killed by a werewolf?”

“Loyalty is a bitch,” Dean shrugs. “Whatever. Let's get ready for tonight, it's the next full moon. If we're lucky, we'll be able to gank both these fuckers.”

The conversation dies there, Dean's irritation at his bad dreams just making him more tense. He doesn't like appearing weak like he just did, especially not in front of Sam. He's supposed to be strong enough to take care of his little brother, but those dreams are tearing him up. The hunter feels so hollow, just like he did back then. As though Sam can read his mind, he stops by the door and looks back at his brother.

He hesitates, though only a moment. As he sat there contemplating the choices they have on fixing Dean's problem, he realized Dean will never call Cas without prompting. If Sam isn't wounded or dying, the older male won't even think about it. With a deep breath, Sam pushes through to ask Dean a simple question... one he knows will anger his brother.

“Have you thought about calling Cas?” he wonders. “Maybe you just need someone to talk to.”

“When have I _ever_ needed someone to talk to,” Dean mutters. “Let's go.”

“I'm just saying... he seems to calm you down rather well.”

“Cas has his own shit to deal with, Sam! I'm not calling him down here for a few stupid nightmares! Just drop it already!”

“... You remembered that one, didn't you?”

Dean doesn't answer him, but the other's body language tells Sam enough. Even if he didn't remember the last bad dream, it's obvious he has a really good idea what it was about. Without knowing himself, however, Sam can't make the call to Cas. He doesn't want to bother the angel when he's trying to calm down the masses of Heaven, especially if this turns out to be nothing more than a bad dream. He'll need proof it's from supernatural causes before he can call Cas with a clear conscience.

They're in the forest not long from then, both armed with silver bullets and blades. They split up, though Sam was against the idea, and now search around the murder scene for their targets. Dean hears a gunshot in Sam's direction, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of his brother lying hurt, yet he forces himself to focus. Movement from his left catches his attention, his gun moving quickly to aim there. Glowing eyes peek from the bush a moment, and then a deer ambles out. Dean sighs in relief and chuckles, dropping his gun after the scare. The deer's ears lift and point forward before it bounds away... and something big hits Dean from the side.

“Son of a bitch,” he gasps out as he hits the ground.

A large werewolf glares at him, fangs glittering in the moonlight as it crouches. Dean moves to aim his gun, but his lack of sleep has left him sluggish. It leaps for him, jaws wide open and ready to tear out his throat. The hunter closes his eyes, actually welcoming the end... and that's what scares him. Before teeth can meet with neck, however, there's another gunshot and warm blood spills on Dean's clothes. Sam jogs over to him.

“What happened?” he demands.

“... I got jumped,” Dean shrugs. “Let's get out of here, I'm a mess.”

“I can see that. Are you sure there were only two?”

“Yeah. Even your story had two... Two guys, right?”

Sam nods, pulling Dean to his feet. When the other staggers a bit from weariness, Sam decides if they missed one they can always come back. Dean is running himself straight into another grave. Together, they walk down the hiking path and back to the Impala. The drive back to the bunker is quiet and Sam knows there'll be screaming during the day when he drives. He just hopes he can focus on the road long enough to get them back.

He wasn't too far off, there was screaming as Dean tried to sleep. Screaming, crying, and pleading... but there was no call for Sam. Though he knows this should probably bother him, the taller male says nothing. He attempted to wake Dean already, but to no avail. The inability to stir from these nightmares is beginning to bother Sam. With a heavy sigh, he turns his gaze to the road. They'll be stopping at yet another hotel tomorrow night.

“No,” Dean whispers through his slumber. “No... no more... stop... hurts... hurts so much... please... please... don't wanna... please...”

The taller male shakes his head, gripping the wheel tight as he listens to his brother. This isn't the Dean he's grown to know, his strong and defiant brother has been broken down to whatever this is in his dreams. Sam didn't think it would bother him this much to see inside Dean. He thought it would be followed by some sort of breakthrough that had them on better terms with each other. Every fiber in his body hoped that when Dean finally broke they could rebuild him, maybe into something different than their father had built him. Unfortunately, the Winchester brothers have never had that sort of luck. Dean refuses to talk about what's happening. The only conversation Sam gets is the broken murmurs of a terrified man trapped in a dream. He wishes, not for the first time, that Dean would swallow that damn pride of his and just talk to him.

They stop at a gas station in the morning hours, both for food and caffeine. Dean starts awake when the rumble of the Impala stills, eyes open and blindly searching for any threats. When he calms, Sam tells him he'll be back and heads in to get them breakfast. Dean doesn't wait for him, slowly getting out of the car and wandering off across the interstate. There's a field on that side, thick with dew from the late night storm, and Dean takes solace in the scent that still lingers there. He lays down in the wet grass, dazed eyes staring up at the clouds as he wonders what Cas is doing up there in Heaven.

There's a rustle of wings and a shadow falls over him, though he doesn't sense it from wherever his mind is lingering. Cas steps closer, tilting his head in question as he gaze down on the man that prayed to him. Apparently, it was once again inadvertent. He wonders why he can't just ignore the hunter. A second look and he realizes that although Dean's eyes are open... he's not seeing the world around him. The wind tosses his trench coat about playfully as he kneels down beside Dean, his sex-mussed dark brown locks blowing about as well. Blue orbs search Dean's core slowly, carefully.

“Dean?” he says quietly. “Dean, where are you right now?”

“It was dark,” the hunter sighs out. “It was dark and hot... so much pain... now it's all gone.”

“And where are you?”

“Heaven,” Dean smiles just as dazed. “So quiet and peaceful... so bright... no more pain... no more voices... no more, no more...”

Cas hums to himself in thought, looking back quickly when he hears Sam's panicked voice. He's returned to find Dean gone. Standing at his full height, the angel is easier to see and Sam is quick to jog over. Dean doesn't hear him, nor does he catch the greetings between the two. Before Sam can ask Cas where Dean might've gotten to, he sees him lying in the grass.

A frown overtakes his lips, the anger he feels at the sudden jolt of fear all too obvious. Cas stops him before he can go off on the older male. At his questioning glance, the angel kneels back down and waves his hand before Dean's dulled green eyes. He doesn't even blink, too busy staring up at the sky.

“What's wrong with him?” Sam wonders a bit worried.

“He's just sleepwalking,” the angel informs. “He must've accidentally prayed to me while in this state of mind, I heard him in Heaven and came down to find him like this.”

“... He's been having nightmares,” the taller male blurts out without thinking. “Really bad ones. He can't sleep without waking me up with his screams, he hasn't been getting enough rest, he nearly bit it during a hunt for a werewolf... I've been trying to get him to talk to me, but he won't.”

“Nightmares? Do you know of what?”

“Whatever it is has him sobbing in his sleep and begging for it to stop. I was thinking maybe... maybe you can talk to him?”

“He says he's in Heaven right now,” Cas offers. “That he was in a bad place before, dark and hot. That he was in pain there and voices whispered to him. He's happy now that all that is gone.”

Sam gives the angel a strange look and Cas understands that's not what he meant by talking to him. After a moment's thought, he realizes he's supposed to play mediator so Dean can tell him what's really going on... but he doesn't need to do that. Not only is he horrible at getting the other to talk, no better than Sam is, but he's an angel and can read the hunter's soul just fine. Blue eyes search out that light once again, finding it as easily as he did in Hell.

There's a darkness burrowing inside of Dean, something he saw only once before. He wonders if it might be the Mark of Cain, however that hasn't bothered Dean since Cain requested his death upon the First Blade. Now it's more a scar from the job if anything. Careful not to jostle the hunter too badly, Cas lifts him off the ground so he can lean against his torso. He focuses on that darkness, searching for what caused it.

“... I don't see anything inhuman going on,” he says. “There's a darkness in his soul, though. I don't like it. I've only seen it once before, after I pulled him from Hell. It seems like something is breaking him down again like the demons did then. Has he been brooding lately? Anything out of character, or perhaps something hurt him badly enough to damage his spirit?”

“I don't think so. I mean, we haven't been on hunts lately and he hasn't really been acting strangely. The only thing I've noticed are those nightmares,” Sam answers. “They started a few days ago in the bunker, so I know it isn't anything supernatural. I just don't understand what's happening.”

“There isn't much I can do except ask around,” Cas sighs. “Perhaps another angel that rescued a soul from Hell will be able to tell me something. I'm sure Dean isn't the only one that's managed to keep going this long.”

“Whoa, wait... _what_?”

“Rescued souls have a track record for success as long as that of a fallen angel,” the angel says. “And that's not a very long one. I think Dean is one of the very few that have lasted so long. I've heard from rumors in Heaven that the others either committed suicide, went insane, or were killed a year or two after being raised.”

Sam stares at the angel in complete shock, unable to find the words that would convey his emotions well enough. All this time he should've been keeping Dean on suicide watch and he's been kicking him off into the corner of solitude. Before he can yell at Cas for his tendency to give information on a 'need to know' basis, there's a sharp intake of breath from Dean.

The hunter looks around in confusion, groaning at the wetness soaked into his clothing. As he stands, Dean has to pull his shirt away from his skin. The water in the fabric is cold and the wind is only making it worse. With a slight shiver, he glances around in an attempt to figure out where he is. When he sees Cas standing by Sam, he can't help the grin that breaks out on his face. It lasts only a moment, and then he's glaring in heated anger at his brother.

“You called him, didn't you!” he accuses.

“No, Dean, you did,” the angel informs. “You prayed to me and I answered, as usual. Of course, when I arrived I learned it was likely unintentional. You were lying in the grass, completely dazed. You didn't even realize I was sitting with you.”

“Cas says you're starting to sleepwalk,” Sam remarks. “I think maybe you should talk to him about your bad dreams...”

“Everyone has them, Sam!” Dean snaps. “I just want to go home, okay? I'll be fine, they'll pass. Right now, I'm hungry and I'm fucking exhausted. Although, I have this linger feeling of utter bliss... I'm not sure how that came about.”

“You saw yourself in Heaven while in your sleepwalking trance. I'm going to go back and see what I can find out from the other angels, there might be a remedy for your nightmares I'm not aware of. Until I manage to learn something, I would suggest you two not run off on more hunts... Dean could end up dead without the proper amount of sleep.”

Sam agrees and before Dean can protest the angel is gone. The taller male ushers Dean back and shoves him into the Impala, ignoring his complaints about ruining his seats with the wet in his clothes. As he starts up the engine, Sam can't help but wonder what Cas meant by a success rate. He remembers when the angels fell, how the majority couldn't conform to human life and immediately fell into war. Cas was likely one of the only ones that managed to conform, but he had spent so much time with the Winchesters that he learned about being human before it happened.

He glances over to Dean as he drives for the hotel they stayed at before. They need to get back soon, he can't risk the other walking straight into the street in the middle of the night. Without time to prepare for the many ways he can get killed while sleepwalking, the younger brother is feeling anxiety and anger. Cas should've told them about all this after pulling Dean up. What is it that made his brother so special? Why would he last this long while all the other souls died out so quickly?

“What are you thinking about?” Dean inquires softly.

“Nothing,” Sam states. “Just tired. We'll stay at that motel tonight so we can both get some shut eye, okay? After that, I'll drive us the rest of the way to the bunker.”

“... I can drive.”

“You're too tired,” Sam argues firmly. “I don't mind the drive, Dean. I can always rest up at the bunker. Right now, we need to worry about keeping you safe while you wander about in your sleep.”

“Maybe it was a one time thing.”

“Sure, because we're _always_ that lucky,” he scoffs sarcastically.

Dean wonders why Cas would have to talk to the other angels about all this, they're only nightmares. He doesn't ask, though, as he knows Sam won't tell him. The taller male is hiding something and Dean doesn't like it. The green-eyed male closes his eyes to rest, hoping he doesn't fall into yet another bad dream. As he drifts off, Sam steels himself for the screaming.

There is no screaming this time, just the jerking and quiet sobbing. Everything about Dean says he's given up, that he's learned struggling is pointless and he's resigned himself to whatever fate he's fallen into. Sam doesn't wake him when he parks the car. Instead, he lifts Dean out of the passenger seat and carries him into the lobby. The woman there stares with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, handing over a key without even thinking.

“Could you please open the door for me?” Sam wonders politely.

“Of course,” she murmurs, stunned. “This way please.”

Once he's back in a room almost identical to their last, save the worn patches on the floor, Sam thanks the woman and lays Dean on one of the beds. After locking the door, Sam flops down on the other bed and falls into a deep sleep. He doesn't wake for the remainder of the night, catching up on all the lost slumber Dean's screaming fits stole from him.

In the morning, Dean is gone. Sam doesn't think anything of it at first, getting up to check the room for the other. He expects to find him in the shower or shaving at the mirror, but there is no Dean. He finally notices that the door is ajar and Dean's boots are still abandoned on the floor by his bed. With a quiet curse, Sam pulls on his shoes and hurries out of the room.

It takes him a long while to locate Dean, the other having wandered off into the trees across the street. When he does come across him, Cas is lingering around the other. He sends a silent thank you to the sky, jogging over to join the angel. Cas glances over at him before turning his attention back to Dean. He's stalking his way through the trees, likely on a hunt in his mind. His hands are positioned as though he's holding a weapon, not a gun but perhaps a blade, and he's motioning with his free hand every now and then. Wherever he is, he isn't alone.

“He called to Benny, so I assume he's back in Purgatory,” Castiel comments.

“You don't seem worried about that.”

“Though he fought to escape, Dean actually enjoyed his time there,” the angel shrugs off. “He's happy where he is right now.”

“He prayed to you again?” Sam sighs.

“He did. I was there in Purgatory with him, he prayed to me often when we were separated. He's simply reliving his time there, nothing more. On another topic, I have news from the other angels on their saved charges.”

“Yeah?”

“... They never got better, Sam. I'm sorry. Something triggered all this in Dean,” he states. “If you can't find what it is, if we can't locate a way to heal it, Dean will go insane.”

Sam's heart drops into his stomach at the news. He was there before, with his mind so screwed up there was nothing that wasn't a danger to him. Dean tried his damnedest to take care of him, but he doesn't think he can do the same for the older hunter. He doesn't deserve that, to be abandoned like that, but Sam just can't watch his brother whittle away to nothing. He's not strong enough for that.

“Cas, what's the success rate of a soul?” he wonders quietly.

“It varies. The shortest is a day, the longest a couple years. It all depends on the determination the soul has to survive,” he informs. “Dean is an exception, his willpower is complex and has many layers to it. His soul is by far the purest we've ever rescued and it attached to me in a rather unexpected manner.”

“That profound bond?”

“Yes. A bond such as that is very rare, even for those that rescue souls from Hell. Dean's is the first that's attached itself to me in such a way. It surprised me, especially since I was supposed to be through with him after saving him. Because of that bond, I was assigned as his guardian. It would seem Dean planned rebellion even _before_ being pulled from perdition.”

The comment is said in humor, but that doesn't reach Sam. He's too busy worrying over the dim chance Dean has. A thoughtful look has taken over the angel's face, his head tilted curiously as he watches Dean still beneath the canopy. Like before, he's confused and scared at waking to an unfamiliar place. Sam calls out to him and it seems to pass quickly. Dean heads over to join them, eying Castiel carefully.

He doesn't accuse Sam of calling the angel this time, probably already aware he prayed to him again. Without a word, he stands before his angel with an expression of a lost child. Cas reaches out and sets a hand on his shoulder, a comforting gesture that soothes the hunter's nerves remarkably well. Though he ends up heading back to the hotel with Sam, Cas flying back to Heaven, Dean seems just a bit happier. Sam, on the other hand, is less than thrilled. His mind keeps going over what Castiel told him. His brother is worse off than he's letting Sam know, which is bothersome, and he could die in the next day or so. Sam glances over at Dean, the other looking for all the world like he hit the lottery. The change in his attitude is odd, but it doesn't distract Sam from his dismal success rate.


	3. Off the Rack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is growing more frustrated with his ever worsening condition. As he slowly falls into madness, Sam is realizing just how fragile his older brother is beneath his well forged mask. The symptoms, however, begin to take on a strange turn. Sam is truly beginning to fear for his brother's safety and Cas is having trouble finding answers. Their only saving grace, however, refuses to bother with the infamous Winchesters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned!!!!!!!! XD I bet you all missed me oh so freaking much! I had a great time at the con, sold my Gir doll (it broke my poor wittle heart T^T). Someone bought a Grimmjow and said it was their favorite purchase over the weekend! I was super excited about that. And I finished making Alice from Tim Burton's 'Alice in Wonderland'! She's wearing the teapot dress he made her ;p Anyway, I haven't written anything for 'Angels Among Us', so here's a bit of this fic =D I missed you all!!!!!!!!! Enjoy!!!!!! X3

The bunker is quiet when they reach it, Dean looking all the worse from lack of restful sleep. There are bags beginning to form beneath his eyes, a dullness has overtaken his emerald orbs, and he no longer smiles. Not that he smiled often before all this, but at least he liked to joke around every now and then. That part of him is gone now. There are no more jokes to ease the tension, no more awkward smiles to appease his brother, and no more attempts to seem fine. Dean is just tired.

Things haven't gotten any better during the remainder of the ride there. The lack of sleep coupled with waking in strange areas has Dean on the defensive. He's irritable and snappish. Though they barely spoke the whole way, there's this ominous cloud of darkness hanging over the older male. Sam is getting all the more worried. Cas hasn't made an appearance since the night at the hotel, as Dean hasn't needed his presence to watch over him. Though he slept in the car, Sam was awake and made certain to lock the doors so he couldn't fall out in his need to walk. Now, however, they're safe in the bunker and Dean _needs_ rest.

“Why don't you take a nap,” Sam suggests.

“Yeah, like that'll get me anywhere,” Dean spits out like acid. “Have you _noticed_ how well I've been sleeping lately?”

“You can't stay awake forever.”

“Why not?” he scoffs. “It'll get me the same fucking results.”

“Dean, just call Cas,” Sam sighs in frustration. “At least he'll be able to set you into a dreamless sleep. You need it, man, you're practically a zombie!”

“Don't tell me how to take care of myself!” Dean shouts. “You think you're so fucking smart just because you went to college. Newsflash, Sammy! I've been caring for myself _and_ you since I was four _fucking_ years old! I _think_ I know how it's done by now!”

“What does me going to college have _anything_ to do with calling Cas?” Sam snaps back. “I swear, you're getting all shades of weird on me without any sleep! You need to...”

“You don't know what I need!” Dean growls back.

“I would if you would _talk_ to me!”

“I'm sorry, I was under the impression the job was over,” the older hunter bites out. “I have _no_ obligation to talk to you about _anything_ but the job. No job, no conversation. Your rules. Now leave me the fuck alone!”

Dean storms off after that, the distant slamming of his bedroom door the only indication of his location. Sam runs his hands over his face and through his hair. He has no clue what's gotten into Dean, but he certainly doesn't like it. With a groan of frustration, Sam grabs the book he was reading before they left and curls back up on the couch. It's late, but he's not ready for sleep yet. He'll read for a little bit before heading off to bed.

He's disturbed a few times by Dean's footsteps. The older hunter exits his room and heads for the kitchen, though Sam doesn't know why. That goes on a few times before he's too tired to focus on the print before him. With a frustrated sigh, Sam puts the book down and walks toward the bathroom. He listens for Dean over the rush of water from the shower, the other taking a couple more trips while Sam bathes. Once or twice he rushes in to use the toilet, sighing in relief as he pisses a stream. He never speaks to Sam, though, just washes his hands and hurries back to his room. Sam turns off the water and heads to his room to get dressed. The minute he's dried off and pulling on a clean pair of boxers, the sound from his brother has lessened. He crawls into bed with a sigh of content, closing his eyes and passing out.

It was a valiant effort in Dean's opinion. He forced himself to stay awake with coffee and pacing, which lasted a good three hours into the night... but even gallons of coffee couldn't save him from the Hell in his dreams. He passed out mid-pace, his body sprawled uncomfortably upon the cold floor, and his mind sinks back into that horrid place he thought he escaped from long ago.

This time he can see it. He can see the chains dug deep in his limbs, the endless pitch of the world around him, and he can hear the screams of others. Hands run along his skin in feigned gentleness, voices whispering truth and lie within his ear. Then someone digs a knife along his side. That's what starts it all, the blood pouring and the abuse he wishes he could erase from his mind. He's passed screaming though, the pain a constant he's just grown used to. Though he still cries and sheds the occasional whimper, there is no screaming. There's no pleading, they'll never stop, and there is no rescue coming for him. This is his eternity and he's accepted that.

Sam is woken around three in the morning by Dean's door slamming shut. With a sigh, he slides out of bed and opens his own door. Dean is slowly moseying down the hallway. He's mumbling to himself, though Sam can't understand the words. Careful not to wake the other, Sam follows him and makes sure he doesn't get hurt. In the back of his mind, Sam can hear Castiel's voice telling him Dean might commit suicide. It's not like his brother to just give up like that, but then again... nothing Dean's done while asleep has been like him.

After a long time wandering about aimlessly, Dean finally comes to a stop in the library. He stands there a long moment and Sam thinks perhaps he'll wake. Then he thrusts a hand forward with a biting sob. He does it again, and again. The hunter just stabs the air with his fist, as though holding a blade Sam can't see. The whole while Dean cries.

“Please... no more... I did what you want... wanna stop... don't wanna hurt... please...”

Suddenly, it's like it never happened. Dean's body stills and drops to the floor... a puppet with it's strings cut. Gasping in worry, Sam hurries to his brother's side. There's a pool of blood growing on the floor from the impact of his head. Sam calls for Cas, he doesn't know what else to do, and the angel appears after the prayer. He doesn't waste time getting Dean up off the floor. He holds the hunter's weight as though he's a feather, carrying him to the leather couch behind Sam in order to lay him down.

The moment Dean is lying on his stomach there, Cas can see the wound on the back of his head. He presses two fingers to it and heals the injury. When he's positive Dean is okay, he stands and turns to Sam. The taller male can see why those other souls didn't last long. It seems the further Dean gets into his dreams, the more apt he is to harm himself.

“He just... fell,” Sam says dumbly. “He was standing there, stabbing at the air... and then he fell.”

“Sleepwalkers don't tend to be dangerous to themselves, Sam, but this is different. Dean isn't just sleepwalking, he's reliving his past horrors. There's no telling what time in his life he's deemed the worst, but that's what he's going through again,” Cas explains. “It could be anything from his mother's death, to a hunt that went wrong, to his time cast into the future. The only way we can know is if we infiltrate his dreams.”

“I can get African Dream-root...”

“No! You aren't going anywhere,” Cas frowns. “Whatever is in his head can kill you, Sam. Just as easily as it can kill Dean. Should we interrupt him before the end of it, before he gets to the part where he's been 'saved', we could permanently damage his soul.”

“How can we save him if we don't know what he's seeing?”

“We talk to him.”

Sam gives Cas a strange look, for once not understanding the other. The comment is plain and simple enough, the angel figured Sam would get it. When he doesn't, Cas turns toward Dean. He kneels beside the couch and lifts a hand to tenderly run it through Dean's hair. Sam has never seen the angel so affectionate with Dean before. He almost feels awkward, as though he's spying on an intimate moment between the two. This isn't the first time he's felt like that either.

“Dean,” Cas says softly. “Where are you now?”

“Mm... Heaven,” he purrs.

“Are you looking for something?”

“Cas.”

“Where were you before? Where were you that made you want to find me?”

“... It was dark and hot...”

“I know, Dean, but where was it?”

“... So much screaming... they liked to hurt me... black eyes... always laughing,” Dean murmurs. “Except him... he had white eyes... he promised to stop... I had to hurt others...”

Castiel sucks in a sharp breath and glances back at Sam. He knows what Dean is talking about now, they both do. Alistair had white eye and Dean admitted he promised to stop hurting Dean if he tortured other souls. Dean is reliving his time in Hell. Now that they know _when_ he is, they have to figure out when it was Cas saved him. That'll be the hardest part.

The hunter groans as his bad dreams start up again, giving him no rest at all. Quickly, before they can take hold, Cas sets his fingers to Dean's temple and the hunter is out like a light. Sam was correct, the angel has placed Dean in a dreamless sleep. Once the green-eyed man is silent and still, his angel stands and begins to pace. All around them are books on everything supernatural... but none will speak of this. Even angels know little about this. Cas needs an expert, someone born among the first four, and he knows exactly where he needs to look.

“What's wrong?” Sam wonders.

“I have to take a trip to Las Vegas.”

“... Do I even want to know?”

“Gabriel is hiding out there as a magician.”

“Gabriel died during the apocalypse,” the hunter corrects. “We saw it. Burned wings and everything, just like all the others.”

“Gabriel is older than time itself,” Cas replies. “He successfully hid out on Earth as the trickster god, Loki, for years. With the power between his trickster self and his archangel self, he could've easily got the jump on Lucifer and played him through his illusions before he had the chance to realize it. Gabriel may have been taught by Lucifer, but he's infinitely more cunning.”

“And you're positive he's there?”

“He raised me, I would know his Grace should it be a flicker on the other side of the world. I'll return as quickly as I can. Keep _all_ your weapons locked up, don't let Dean near _any_ of them. Try to sleep when he's awake, should he fall asleep and you not wake he could hurt himself worse than a bump on the head. Should he wake before I return, don't mention any of this to him. Worrying him will only advance his memories, he'll start pinpointing the worst of them.”

“Okay, I got it. Come back quickly.”

“I'll try, but I can't make any promises. Gabriel is stubborn, he may not want to help. Without his knowledge, Dean will most certainly die.”

It's not something Sam wants to hear, however he knows Cas has never sugar-coated anything. Perhaps he needs that sudden ice along his spine, to keep him aware of just how fragile Dean really is. Although he's put off an air of defiance, dominance, and pure indestructibility... Sam is beginning to see how big a farce it all was. The mask of an unbreakable joker has shattered upon Dean's sleep.

Dean starts awake a few hours after his episode, surprised to see he's in the library. It's a familiar place, though, and he doesn't find himself panicking. Sam is sitting at the closest table, on the side he can easily watch Dean from, with a book open in front of him. At the sight of Dean sitting up, he regards him carefully to make sure he's not in a trance.

“I'm awake, don't look at me like that,” the older hunter frowns.

“Like what?”

“Like I'm a fragile nut-job that needs to be babied!”

“Sorry, it's just... you got hurt last time you walked in your sleep,” Sam offers, choosing his words carefully. “You fell and hit your head... it was a pretty nasty injury, but Cas healed you up. You know, he's really fond of you.”

“He's my best friend, why wouldn't he be?” Dean wonders curiously.

“Not in the 'you're my best friend' type of way,” the younger corrects. “More like the 'god I wish I could nail him for life' sort of way.”

“... I honestly have nothing to say to that.”

Sam rolls his eyes with a snort of humor. He watches as his brother gets up, looking to the hallway before slowly making his way to the table. It's been a while since they sat together without being on a job or doing research. Dean seems almost hesitant to do so now, as though he's afraid he won't be welcome or it's a waste of time. It bothers Sam. Now that he's seeing his older brother in a new light, he realizes his method of giving them the opportunity to find their own separate paths wasn't the best for them both. Had he known Dean was far more fragile than he appeared, he might've went a different route.

“... Did Cas say something?” the green-eyed male wonders quietly.

“He didn't have to, it's in the way you two interact,” Sam smirks. “Sometimes it's like watching a private moment, really awkward and shit. Other times I'm just waiting for one of you to jump the other. I think he hasn't said anything because you're... well... you're you.”

“Is something wrong with me?” Dean asks affronted.

“What _isn't_ wrong with us?” Sam laughs. “It's more like, he knows you're pro-women. The fact he has a male vessel probably makes him think you can never see him like that, or maybe he's just confused as to what he really feels. He's likely afraid his vessel's gender makes it impossible for you to see him sexually, so he doesn't bother trying. But I'm telling you, dude, he's smitten horribly.”

There's silence for a long time, a thoughtful expression taking over Dean. Sam is curious and wants to ask him all the questions he's ever held back concerning the strange relationship between the two, yet once more bites his tongue. Something tells him asking will only push the other away, if he even hears him. Dean has that look of deep thought placed firmly upon his brow.

It's moment's like this that remind Dean his younger brother is in there somewhere. For the longest time, he was afraid he lost that connection. Well... he did... he just worried it was because Sam lost his soul again. The way he'd been acting since the fall of the angels has really torn Dean up, though he'd never say anything. If this is what Sam wants, he's happy to suffer as long as his brother doesn't.

“... I'm sick, aren't I?” Dean wonders quietly. “That's why I can't sleep, why I've started sleepwalking. I know you've been talking to Cas about it. Did he find out anything?”

“It's just bad dreams, Dean,” Sam states. “Just like you said. They'll go away on their own, okay? We just have to take them one at a time.”

“I got hurt last time, you said so yourself,” he frowns. “What if it's worse next time?”

“I'll be there to stop it.”

“... Why?”

Sam's eyes dart up quickly to study Dean's features. They're dark and tired, confusion within green orbs at his admission. The other hunter truly can't figure out why Sam would stop him from getting hurt. Maybe he doesn't even want him to. He can't say anything to that, so he doesn't. The fact Dean wouldn't care about his own safety, however, strikes a cord in the younger Winchester. After all the hell he's gone through saving Sam, he doesn't give a shit about himself.

They're quiet for a long time, the silence eventually getting on Dean's nerves. He gets up and walks out of the room, his sad orbs hidden from the younger hunter as he gives Sam his back instead. The moment of brotherhood he was looking for is gone, passed without so much as a promise of returning. One hand grips his heart, confusion welling in his eyes at the sudden pain and growing emptiness. Shaking it off, the hunter heads into the kitchen to make breakfast. It's about that time, though maybe a bit early.

Sam nods off not long after that, woken by the smell of burning food. Panicked, he rushes into the kitchen to find it empty of Dean. Smoke is billowing from a pan on the stove, the bacon charred inside it. He quickly turns off the fire and searches out the missing hunter. It takes him a long time, searching high and low, before he notices the door to the bunker is open. He grabs the key, which they leave on a table inside the door, and closes the door behind him. On first glance he doesn't see his brother, his heart pounding all the harder in his chest. He takes off into the woods that surround the bunker.

When he finally comes across Dean, his heart nearly stops. He's standing high up in a tree, hands not even searching for balance as he gazes at the ground. His toes are already over the edge of the thick branch, body swaying back and forth as though in thought.

Dean doesn't see the tree or the forest floor, he's in Hell and his eyes perceive a deep pit at the edge of a cliff. He remembers this place, he came here after Alistair let him off the rack. He hurt an innocent soul that made a deal to save her son. It left a bad taste in his mouth and he knew he couldn't spend all eternity like that, so he finds himself back on the edge of that cliff. There's only one purpose for being there... a quick and merciful end. Even in Hell there's a place a soul can go to get away and it happens to be an endless black hole. Closing his eyes tight, he holds his arms out and takes a deep breath. It hurts him to leave behind Sam forever, but he knows better now. Sam isn't coming for him... no one is. With that in mind, he leans forward.

Sam watches as Dean lifts his arms out to his sides, his heart quickening. He begins to run toward the other, but he's too far away to reach him. He knows without a doubt he won't reach him in time. Finally, before Sam can call out to him in a pointless attempt to wake him, Dean falls forward. Only one word leaves Sam's lips at that moment. It comes out loud and harsh, soaked in panic and disbelief.

“CAS!” he screams.

He can't remember if he put it in prayer form or not, but the angel appears without hesitation anyway. Though he lands beside Sam, he sees Dean's plight immediately. With a wave of his hand, Dean is in his arms instead of hitting the ground in his swan dive. Green eyes are unseeing as they stare up at the canopy, one hand gripping tight to his chest as a slight trail of tears leak along his cheekbones.

“Thank you,” Sam breathes out.

“Not at all,” the angel replies. “I told you to watch him, didn't I?”

“I did! He went into the kitchen to cook breakfast, I thought he got enough sleep from the dreamless state you put him in.”

“... His trances must be stealing him from his wakeful state,” he sighs. “I located Gabriel, but as I mentioned before he's being quite stubborn. He refuses to help out, he doesn't want to get involved. I'll keep trying, but you really must keep a better eye on him.”

“I have to sleep, Cas,” Sam comments with thick annoyance. “I can't just stay awake forever because Dean needs a babysitter, you know.”

Something about Castiel's countenance turns sour quickly. Sam knows he said something wrong without even being told, the accusation within the angel's blue eyes boring holes in his soul. Those arms hold Dean tighter, trying to calm the anger rarely seen within Cas. It has Sam holding his breath, unable to move for fear of him lashing out. He's suddenly grateful Dean is occupying Castiel's arms.

Cas starts back toward the bunker, trying hard not to say anything as he thinks over Sam's outburst. He thought the brother's were closer than this. He remembers when Sam was out of his mind thanks to Lucifer. Though he wasn't there at the time, Dean told him what happened. The older brother stood beside Sam like a protective canine looking for blood. He took care of Sam just as he always had. Even when he, himself, fell to Sam's illness Dean was there. Though he didn't stay at his side, he made sure someone did and checked on him frequently. He probably didn't tell Sam that part and did so in private, but Meg often told him how he annoyed her with his constant calls. He doesn't understand why Sam wouldn't have that same amount of loyalty for Dean. As he thinks it over, he shifts the older hunter in his grasp and comes to a stop. Dean is peaceful, which means he's likely in Heaven looking for him. He doesn't know why he would look for him and not Sam, but his continued freedom can only mean he's at a point where he's off the rack.


	4. Fall Into Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Dean's near suicide attempt, Sam is watching him a bit closer. Unfortunately, as his illness graduates from sleepwalking to hallucinations... Dean makes yet another choice for Sam's life without discussion. Thankfully, Castiel has worked their only hope down enough that they agree to help. Though not particularly subtle about the details, they plan on getting the job done and making sure this never happens again. That's really all they can ask for at this point.

Sam has been quiet this whole time, worrying his bottom lip as he watches Cas. The angel sits at the base of a tree, adjusting Dean so he's cradled in his arms. He runs his hand through the hunter's hair like before, tucking Dean's head beneath his chin to hold him. The taller male knows he's deep in thought, yet can't help turning away from the intimate interaction.

The angel unconsciously kisses Dean's head, a motion he learned as a human when he babysat for his coworker and friend. He glances over at Sam, who's back is to him now, and studies him carefully. He's certainly not as strong as Dean, but the older hunter _had_ to be the strong one. It's all he knew and, therefore, all he learned to be. Sam grew up knowing he could rely on Dean should he need help, but Dean didn't have anyone to rely on other than himself. It hardly seems fair that the one reason Dean had to keep going is refusing to care for him the one time he needs it. After a long moment, Cas sets hard eyes on Sam and opens his mouth to speak.

“... I'm well aware you need sleep, Sam,” the blue-eyed male frowns. “And I'm sorry this is becoming such a burden to you. Perhaps I misjudged the relationship you have with your brother...”

“He's not a burden, it's just... lack of sleep causes irritability in humans,” he sighs. “Not only that... I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to keep him safe. I'm just not used to seeing him so broken. Even when he returned from Hell he didn't seem this broken.”

“Of course he didn't, I mended him,” the angel comments. “I put him back together before setting his soul within his vessel. It was a painstaking task that I'm rather proud of.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam sighs out as he runs a hand through his hair. “You know, I told him I wanted to make sure he didn't hurt himself again. He asked me why. Can you believe that? Like it didn't matter if he died from all this or not.”

“That's what's bothering you?” the angel inquires. “Sam, every soul drawn from Hell has little care for itself. Even Dean. Right now he's just unable to hide that fact from you. Something in his life is telling him he's no longer wanted, so his natural reaction is to get rid of the problem. In this case, the problem happens to be himself.”

“... I'll keep a better watch on him.”

After making certain Sam is telling the truth, Cas stands and hands over the shorter hunter. Negotiations with Gabriel are going rather badly and he needs to return quickly before the other disappears. He's gone in the blink of an eye and Sam is left holding his brother, who's staring at the sky in a child-like fascination. Unable to think of anything else, Sam decides he might as well try talking to Dean. Perhaps he can get some information out of him that can be of use.

“So, Dean... what happened there? You take a fall?” he wonders idly.

“It didn't work,” Dean says in disappointment. “I tried to get away... the pit was deep... they caught me.”

“Where are you now?”

“Heaven,” Dean smiles with a heartbreaking happiness. “Cas is in Heaven... he saved me... I need him.”

“What about me?” Sam frowns. “I mean... what about Sam?”

“... Sam is gone...”

The taller male stops at that, raising a brow curiously as he gazes down at Dean. When Dean was in Hell, he was working on trying to find a way to bring him back. He wasn't 'gone' until after the apocalypse, which was a good chunk of time _after_ Dean was raised. He'll admit after he, himself, was pulled from Lucifer's cage he could've still been labeled 'gone'. Once again, however, that was long after Dean was brought back. He doesn't understand his brother's use of the term, so he attempts to delve deeper.

“Gone? Gone where?” he wonders.

“... Don't know... just gone,” Dean sighs out. “No more soul... no more Sammy... no one to save me... just Cas.”

“Is that why you look for him in Heaven? Because he's the only one that can save you?”

“... I need him... love him...”

Sam nearly drops his brother at that, shock obvious within hazel eyes. It would seem Dean's pasts are mixing, but this admission is quite unforeseen. Carefully, he sets Dean on his feet and opens the door to the bunker. He leads the older Winchester in slowly, making sure to lock the door afterward. When he manages to get the other into the kitchen, the smell of smoke seems to wake the other. He looks around the room, taking in the smoke and the inedible bacon.

“Son of a bitch,” he gripes. “I was _just_ in here! There's _no_ way bacon can burn that fast!”

“Dean, you blacked out again,” Sam sighs from behind him. “Found you outside in the trees.”

Green eyes go large, but he says nothing more. Instead, he walks over and dumps the bacon into the garbage. He glances at the clock, finding that it's around nine in the morning now. Last he checked, it was only seven. He lost two hours and can't remember a thing. Although he refuses to talk to Sam about it, the other can tell he's suffering. Sam takes a seat at the table and watches him.

As Dean starts over, he can feel his brother's eyes on him. It's unnerving and he finds himself wishing he would just go lock himself in his room as usual. In his mind all he's getting from the taller male is accusation and feigned pity. He'd rather have nothing at all than that. With a heaved sigh, he scrambles the eggs and decides against bacon. When he's finished, he sets some down for Sam and tries to take his plate elsewhere.

“No,” Sam states. “You're not leaving my sight, Dean. Last time that happened you fell into a trance. Cas nearly killed me because I didn't notice you left the bunker right away.”

“Just stop it! Stop pretending like you care!” the older hunter snaps. “You don't have to hover me just because Cas told you to. Go do whatever the hell it is you do and leave me alone!”

“Dean, I'm not going to let you get hurt again!”

“Why not!” he shouts. “Everything will be better when I'm gone! Everyone will be happier, so just let it happen!”

That takes them both by surprise. Sam stares at Dean and the green-eyed man stares at the floor, both completely dumbfounded. The fact even Dean is shocked at his utterance gives Sam some hope, but not much. Before he can grab a hold of his brother, Dean retreats to his bedroom. The sound of the door slamming shut echoes back to Sam and he groans in irritation. He hasn't managed to get enough sleep to deal with Dean's shit.

Keeping one ear out for Dean's movement, Sam wolfs down his breakfast and heads for the library. He'll be able to hear the other from there, so that's where he'll camp out. He grabs a few books to keep him occupied and settles into the plush leather couch. At least this way, Dean will have to pass him by to get anywhere.

About half an hour into his book, Dean wanders into the room. He doesn't seem to be in one of his trances, but his face is chalk white and he's staring toward the entrance to the room. He looks honestly terrified, an expression Sam has never seen on him before. Those green eyes glance at him a moment, and then Dean is inching toward him.

“What's the matter, Dean?”

“Do you see that?”

“See what?”

“It's... Alistair. He's just standing there like... Fuck!” Dean shouts as he falls and scrambles away from Sam. “Get away from me! You leave my brother alone, get out of him!”

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Sam wonders.

Wide with fear and anger, Dean's eyes regard his brother. He sees black eyes in place of hazel, a sneering expression as he mocks the poor hunter. When Sam stands to go to him, Dean crawls backward to get away. The taller male recognizes the actions, the completely bewildered mannerisms... he went through the same thing when plagued by Lucifer. No longer are Dean's visions trapped within his nightmares, now they've slipped past his guard into his waking moments.

“Dean, what you're seeing isn't real,” he explains carefully. “You're hallucinating, okay? Like I did when I saw Lucifer. I'm not possessed by a demon and Alistair isn't in the bunker. This is the Men of Letters bunker, man, nothing evil can get into it. Nothing. I wasn't possessed before we got here and I sure as hell wasn't taken over while beneath this roof.”

“... We're in the bunker,” Dean comments in an attempt to soothe himself. “The bunker's safe, nothing can get me here. And... and Alistair is dead... he can't be here...”

“That's right, man, I killed him,” Sam offers with a relieved smile. “You're safe here. No demons can get inside this bunker, you're safe.”

Dean nods to himself absently, catching his breath as he shakes off the hallucination. Slowly, Sam's hazel eyes bleed back and the black disappears. He glances over to where Alistair stood, however the demon has vanished as well. He doesn't know what's worse, seeing him in his dreams or seeing him while he's awake. He gazes upon his brother, so ruffled and weary. Sam shouldn't have to deal with this, it isn't fair to the other.

“Sam, why don't you get some sleep,” Dean offers. “I'm okay now and you need rest.”

“I don't know, Dean, I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Well... how about I get you some coffee then?”

The younger nods with a grateful smile and Dean heads into the kitchen. The sound of him bustling about undisturbed relaxes Sam, the taller male breathing a bit easier now that he knows for sure Dean is okay. He recalls the hell he went through with similar hallucinations, he doesn't want that for Dean as well. After everything the older male has gone through, it just doesn't seem right to put him through that as well.

Dean pours the hot coffee into Sam's cup once it's finished, hesitating before dropping in a couple pills as well. Sam needs sleep and certainly doesn't seem willing to take care of himself, so the older Winchester will just give him a little push. Besides, Dean can't rabbit if Sam's eyes are never shut. He's decided he can't put Sam through the same thing he went through. He refuses to be a burden on his little brother. With an easy exhalation, he lifts up the cup and forces a lazy smile on his lips. His typical mask may have cracked, but 'the joker' isn't the only mask he owns.

“Here you go,” he states.

“Thanks, Dean. Hey... are you feeling okay? I mean, what are you seeing? Do you remember your dreams?” Sam questions as he drinks his coffee.

“I feel fine,” Dean answers as he normally does. “I don't remember anything from my dreams and I haven't seen anything before now.”

“I just feel bad I can't handle this as well as you did,” Sam comments through a yawn.

“Don't worry, Sam, you won't have to long.”

“... What's that supposed to mean?” he wonders cautiously.

“I'm sure it'll go away soon. It's just lack of sleep and pretty soon my nightmares will go away,” the older male offers up.

“... Yeah... I guess so.”

Dean smiles widely at Sam, an empty gesture even the younger hunter sees through. Before he knows it, Sam is nodding off and Dean heads back to his room to pack a bag. He's quick about it, rushing back to the library to set the Impala's keys next to his brother. He won't drive his baby in this condition, he doesn't want to hurt her. After patting the top of Sam's head gently, Dean heads for the door to the bunker. He doesn't look back after walking out.

The hunter takes to walking along the long road to town. Not many cars pass by him, but he's not about to hitch a ride for fear he'll hurt someone. This is something he has to suffer alone. Sam will be better off without him, maybe find a girl and settle down. Have a few kids. He deserves that sort of life, not Dean. Dean is poison, he ruins everything, and he can't bare to destroy his little brother's life once again. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he did act selfishly when he brought him back. This time however... this is what's best for Sam, this is what the other wants. For them to go their separate ways, to not rely on one another to the point of saving each other.

He sucks in a sharp breath and stumbles, one hand gripping his chest as that strange pain and emptiness grows. It lasts a bit longer this time, yet dissolves fast enough he doesn't think anything of it. The hunter continues on his way, humming to himself to fill the void of silence overtaking the world around him. Dean hates silence... it reminds him of his failure to save his bond with Sam.

Sam is startled awake for some unknown reason. Confused, he gets up and looks at the table. He must've nodded off, his coffee isn't even gone yet. Worried at the sheer quiet, he starts looking for Dean. The car keys are on the table, so he couldn't have gotten far. He heads to the kitchen first, catching sight of the clock there... eleven o'clock. He gasps in shock, realizing he slept for three hours.

“Oh my god, Cas is gonna kill me!”

“Why?”

“Holy fuck!” Sam shouts at the voice behind him. “Cas! Stop sneaking up on me!”

“I apologize. Why am I going to kill you?”

“... I slept for three hours and Dean's gone.”

Curious blue goes hard at the admission, yet a glance toward the counter soothes the anger. One brow raises and Cas passes Sam up to get closer. Someone else is with Cas and Sam recognizes them as the trickster that took an unhealthy interest in himself and Dean. He hops onto the counter and picks up a small bottle with a cackle.

“Your brother doped you,” he laughs. “Which one of you takes sleeping pills?”

“Dean does when he's here,” Sam comments in confusion. “Sometimes he just can't sleep... why?”

“Let me guess... he offered to get you a drink and you fell asleep not long after.”

“Yeah.”

“Don't be a fucking idiot, Sammy, I know you can get this,” the trickster sighs in exasperation. “He gets you a drink... there's a bottle of sleeping pills on the counter... you fall asleep and he's gone...”

Sam's blood runs cold as he connects the dots. He doesn't understand why he would do it, but for some reason Dean drugged him and took off. He falls into the chair at the table heavily, face dropping into his hands. The groan that leaves him has a hint of a whine in it. Cas stands near him, a hand on his shoulder to calm him, but Gabriel is still laughing from the counter-top.

In his frustration at Dean's inability to lean on others, he turns angrily toward Gabriel. The fury in his eyes stops the trickster's laughter. He's so defeated he just wants to cry. Maybe kick the cabinets in a fit of rage, cuss out his stubborn brother, or go on a hunt to kill something that deserves it. All this can easily be read by the archangel. A sudden sadness he wouldn't call pity if it threatened his life otherwise comes over Gabriel, the other sliding off the counter to draw the taller man into a hug.

“It's okay to worry about him, Samsquach,” he comments softly. “He's your brother... _someone_ has to worry about that self-destructive idiot. We'll help him, okay?”

“How? How can you help someone that doesn't _want_ help?”

“First off, we're gonna find out what the trigger was. Something had to have been eating at him for a long period of time,” he offers. “Something that he normally doesn't have to face. Maybe something he fears, or something that ties into the force that drives him...”

“Force that drives him?”

“His reason for living, Sam,” Cas remarks. “Someone like Dean needs a reason to live, someone to live _for_ , or he's better off dead in his own opinion. Without that one thing to keep him rooted to the world of the living, his soul yearns for the peace or chaos of the afterlife. Remember, he cares little for himself... he doesn't live just to live, he lives for someone else.”

“He lives for Sam,” Gabriel points out. “I do believe I already threw you guys into a lesson about that. So, what did you do to break your brother's extremely fragile psyche?”

The look on Sam's face tells them he didn't even consider blaming himself. Both affronted and shocked, Sam looks ready to blow a gasket. His face gradually turns red and Cas is worried he might really go off on the trickster, however Gabriel is less than impressed. He knows what happened. Centuries of observing humans and years of living among them, he's become an expert at reading them. Sam is to blame for Dean's breakdown, though he couldn't have known he was damaging the other.

“I didn't do anything,” he mutters. “All I told him was that we needed to change our relationship. He was way too dependent on me and I was pissed he started making choices for me without my consent. I told him we could either be brothers or partners, but not both. We just kept getting hurt or killed as both. I wanted more for us than that.”

“Sam... Dean was dependent on you for a _reason_ ,” Cas whispers out heatedly. “A rescued soul can't live on its own, it needs something to latch on to. It needs to feel needed, or it gets infinitely more reckless than before it was dragged down to Hell. And Dean was far too reckless _before_ he died the first time. The only reason he's made it this long, is because he had you to take care of.”

“... I didn't know...”

“Of course you didn't, Sammy,” Gabriel scoffs. “ _Dean_ probably didn't even know. I suggest we track the little bitch down, though, he's not safe on his own out there. Cassy?”

Castiel places a hand on Sam's shoulder and another on Gabriel's... they're gone in a second. Sam appears not far from the bunker, somewhere in town it would seem. They're in a deserted part of it, more rundown and filled with small makeshift shelters. Cas seems at home here, which can probably be attributed to his time among the homeless when he was human. He roams the area until someone wanders into the open. She's an elderly woman, gray hair and stooped figure, but seems rather strong for her age.

“Excuse me, mam, I'm looking for someone. He's about this tall,” he states as he motions with his hand. “Short brown hair, striking green eyes...”

“Ah, the new one,” she nods. “He's over that way. A tad touched, if you ask me. Keeps whimpering and telling some imaginary thing to go away. He's calling out for someone named 'Cas'.”

“That would be me. Thank you so much for your help.”

She smiles at them and then ambles over to another shelter, a bag of food in her arms. The three continue down the street until they catch sight of Dean. He's huddled against a wreck of a car, rusted and missing far too many parts to be of any use. His bag is held tight to his chest and his eyes are shut tight as he murmurs to himself.

Cas kneels beside him and carefully tries to garner his attention. When Dean's green eyes open, they're filled with terror. He pushes himself closer against the car, eyes looking past Cas to Sam. Gabriel frowns and looks between the two. He pulls Sam behind him to obscure his presence as much as possible. Dean needs to focus on Cas, not Sam. It works and Dean turns back to the angel beside him. Cas cups his face in his hands, forcing the hunter to make eye contact with him.

“Dean, everything is okay now,” he says soothingly. “You're with me... with Castiel... your Cas. I won't let anything hurt you, you know that. You will always be safe within my presence.”

“Cas,” Dean murmurs unseeing. “Cas... they were everywhere... so many demons.”

“No, Dean, there were no demons. You're seeing things. Now I'm going to take you to a safe place, where I can watch over you until you're better. Doesn't that sound good?”

“I left Sammy,” the hunter says suddenly. “He's gone... Sammy's gone... I don't want to go back there with him. It isn't fair to him... to Sammy... but... but Sammy's gone...”

His confusion is endearing to the angel, who pulls him into his arms gently. He promises to always watch over him, to take care of him, and to never leave him. Sam and Gabriel watch, both uneasy about intruding upon this moment. Dean is a mess and his only saving grace is his angel. The same angel that seems to be the only one that can get through to him now.


	5. The Broken Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his utterly brilliant plan to run away, Dean is back at the bunker and pushing everyone but Cas away from him. Hurt by his brother's refusal to even talk to him through the door, Sam is beginning to wonder just how deep he cut his 'unbreakable' sibling. With Gabriel taking command of their 'rescue' attempt, things are looking a bit better for Dean. Unfortunately, nothing can be easy with the Winchesters. As more secrets from Hell come to lights, Sam is beginning to wonder if his brother ever really came back from that place.

The bunker is eerily quiet, Sam's footsteps the only sound echoing within the library. Dean is locked in his room with Cas, unwilling to leave even for food. Though he wishes to stay there permanently, the angel managed to convince him to at least use the facilities for showering and restroom breaks. It hurts Sam, the way Dean looks at him now, and he isn't exactly certain how he should deal with it. Dean's only looked at him that way a couple times. Once was when he was addicted to demon blood, the other he barely recalls from his time as 'Soulless Sam'. When he stood and watched his older brother get turned by a vampire... and did nothing to stop it.

“Stop your damn pacing,” Gabriel comments past a sucker. “You're making me anxious.”

“Did you see the way he looked at me?” Sam huffs. “Like I'm some evil being he can't even trust to watch over his fucking _shoe_? What brought that about? Haven't I been trying hard enough to take care of him?”

“Sam, it's not that. Dean isn't seeing the _now,_ he's trapped in the _past_. It could very well be that he's seeing something that just isn't there anymore.”

“You mean like my soul?” he bites out.

“Dean is broken, Sam,” Gabriel offers placating. “It happens. You have no right to judge that, you're not exactly the poster child of mental health. This world is fucked up and no hunter is more fucked up than the Winchesters, you should know that by now.”

Though his tone was placating, Sam can hear the unspoken words beneath... 'stop bitching about your brother when this all your fault to begin with'. It hurts, more than anything he's ever endured before, and Sam wonders if this is what Dean's been feeling all this time. He doesn't like the thought of harming his brother in such a way. It stabs deeper and lingers longer.

With a heavy sigh, Sam heads for the stairs. He needs to talk to Dean, at least hear his voice... even if it might be an insult or plea to be left alone. When he gets into the hall containing their rooms, he finds Cas pacing outside the bedroom. Blue eyes glance up at him calmly.

“What's going on?” Sam asks.

“Dean tricked me into leaving and locked me out,” the angel sighs. “I guess I should've expected it. He really doesn't like being hovered.”

“Is he okay?”

“... I honestly don't know, Sam. He wanted to sleep. The best we can do is wait until he goes into a trance and walks out,” Cas shrugs. “He'll be fine, I made certain to remove any and all things that can be used as a weapon... which is likely why he's angry with me.”

Sam can see that. Dean spent hours decorating his first and only room since the house fire, mainly with weapons. Since that's pretty much all he had on his walls, the room probably looks as empty as when they first arrived. Sam knocks on the door and calls out for his brother, getting a less than happy 'fuck off' in answer. That's all he needed, just to hear his brother's voice, and then he's pulling Cas upstairs with him.

Unbeknownst to Dean, Gabriel managed to hide a baby monitor in his room where he can't find it. When the two get upstairs, they can see him with the speak at the table. His arms are crossed over the top, his head pillowed in them, and he stares at the small object. As they get closer, they can hear sleepy mumbling from Dean.

“Your brother's fucking hilarious, Sammy,” the trickster snorts in humor. “Before you guys got up here, he was mumbling about demon strippers and angel prostitutes. What I would've give to be a fly on the wall of _his_ dreams.”

“You really don't,” Cas comments. “From what I remember, good dreams were few and far between...and the bad ones were lethal.”

“How long until his trance takes over?” Sam inquires to change the subject.

“Don't know,” Gabriel shrugs. “We'll just have to wait. Don't worry though, I'll know when it happens. Go read or something, I'm good here.”

It's obvious the younger Winchester doesn't want to divert his attention from Dean, however he forces himself to sit down and read anyway. Cas isn't that lucky, however, blue eyes focused on the mechanism sitting before his older brother. Ever since he lifted Dean from Hell, they've been nearly inseparable. Cas could've murdered an entire city of innocent humans in cold blood and Dean would've found a way to justify it. Some sort of unstoppable driving force circles that bond between them, nurturing it and protecting it... keeping them together through everything no normal couple should have to go through. In most cases, it's a scary thought. Now, however, Sam's glad Dean has at least the angel to turn to.

It doesn't take long for the first sounds of a nightmare to buzz from the speaker, only about fifteen minutes. By that time, Sam's already immersed himself in a book on Roman Mythology. There is no screaming, but that's not new. The first thing they hear... is absolutely nothing. Then there's the slow creak of the bedroom door opening. All three men stare at the doorway that leads to the stairwell. Dean doesn't show, however, and Cas quickly searches him out. He's in the garage.

Dean can only see Hell, Alistair at his side. He feels so empty, so nervous, and the hand on his shoulder shouldn't be as comfortable as it is. A knife rests within his hand, yet he doesn't try and stab it through the demon at his side. In this hellhole, the only one that seems to take a liking to him that isn't sexual or sadistic is Alistair. As John was part of his safe haven when he was alive, Alistair has become that here in the afterlife he condemned himself to.

“Don't worry, Dean, everyone is nervous their first day,” the demon whispers in his ear. “I'll be right here to help you through it, I promise. I won't abandon you like your family did.”

“... They did,” Dean murmurs monotonously. “They abandoned me... I have no one...”

“You have me. That's all you need down here, my boy.”

“Yes... just you.”

Alistair kisses Dean's temple in a fatherly manner, petting his brown locks as he gazes upon his new apprentice in appreciation. There's so much raw talent bubbling beneath the hunter's surface, so many things he could teach him... so many ways he could push him to be the next King of Hell. Though he would never admit it to anyone within the recesses of this fiery pit, he'll be raising this new fledgeling of a demon like his own child.

He leads Dean up to a woman stretched out on the rack Dean escaped. She's crying, her mascara streaked along her pale skin, and large doe brown eyes watch him fearfully. The green-eyed man stops only inches from her prone body. He shifts the blade in his hand, the light of fires glinting off the metal there.

Sam watches curiously as Dean wanders around the garage. He and the angels got there as quickly as possible. They arrived just in time to hear Dean speak to himself. This time, however, he seems to be playing the part of more than just himself. Sam was struck when he heard something about his family abandoning him, as though physically punched in the gut. Now they watch him standing still in the middle of the garage, nothing around him. His hand raises slowly, fingers moving in a manner Cas has seen before.

“He's torturing a soul,” the angel informs. “I've seen him move like that when we employed his talents with Alistair.”

“Did you save him when he was torturing a soul?”

“No,” he answers. “This would be too early anyway. He isn't feeling the darkness as he did when I found him.”

Gabriel lifts a hand to silence their whispers, eyes pinned on Dean's hand as it draws a slow line in the air. He doesn't know who Dean is speaking to, but things aren't looking very good for whoever he's standing before in his mind. He'll have to make sure he asks Cas later about the state Dean's soul was in when he was gripped.

“Her name is Emily... mother of four,” Dean remarks in a voice unlike his own, suddenly stabbing downward. “Cut out her heart... make her feel the pain... just like her children.”

Sam's jaw immediately drops at that. The look on Dean's face, now that they've circled around, is cold and vicious... almost manically joyous. And then the worst thing happens... Dean's eyes flicker black, just like a demon's.

“Fuck,” he gasps out as he jerks away from his brother. “What the hell?”

“Sam, stop,” Gabriel bites out in a harsh whisper. “Don't make any sudden movements, dreams of Hell are extremely unpredictable. Should he feel threatened by someone near him in his dream, he'll lash out. There's no telling where that threat will be compared to where we stand, he could very well kill one of us in his trance.”

The younger hunter's body stills quickly, eyes pinned on his brother with a hint of fear and uncertainty. He feels as though Dean is a complete stranger. For a brief moment, Sam wonders if this is how Dean felt when he lost his soul. Perhaps this is what he's been feeling since their fallout when the angels fell.

They watch as the 'torture' continues, Dean praising himself in a voice that isn't entirely his... but also dropping into a hopeless tone that's most definitely his, all agreement and an eagerness to please. It breaks his heart just as much as it sends ice water down his spine. Once the stabbing motion ends, Dean excuses himself in that other tone.

“Such a good job,” he murmurs. “Such a good boy... how could they abandon you... all of them... It doesn't matter, not anymore... you're mine now... My boy... good boy... go and play.”

With that, the older Winchester saunters off. He looks as though he's the strong beam of steel he always is, heading for the small office space in the garage. And then he shuts the door. They watch his shoulders slump with the weight of the world and then some, his head hanging as they shudder, and slowly he sinks to the floor. Worried about what he might be doing now, the three observers open the door slowly and quietly. Dean is huddled in a corner sobbing quietly.

Hands lain before his own eyes, now that sorrowful green they usually are, Dean just stares at them. Probably watching the blood drip from his digits, staining his skin with the... afterlife... of another. Sam wants to go to him, however Gabriel holds him back. Dean is feeling abandoned by his family, so he's likely to lash out at the source of his anger and emotional turmoil. Instead, the archangel waves Cas past. This was his savior then, there's a deep connection born of their Father's influence that protects Castiel, Dean will allow only him close enough. Though Dean wasn't rescued by Cas until after Gabriel first met him, even then the older angel could feel the influence of their Father's power on Dean. For some reason, God was meticulous when creating the Winchester brothers... as though he saw all this coming and wove in extra defenses to prepare and protect them from their future struggles.

Castiel kneels beside Dean, carefully setting his hand on the hunter's shoulder. Dean stiffens with a sharp intake of breath, too scared to look behind him. Finally, that hand begins to rub soothing circles along his back. It's so unlike the touches he normally receives in Hell, he can't help but glance over to the angel. All Dean sees is a bright light with huge feathery wings, green eyes growing large with awe and recognition.

“Dean,” Cas states tenderly. “Dean, please wake up. You're trapped in your dreams again... in your memories. Please, come back to me. Let me comfort you.”

It's a short fight for consciousness, but soon Dean is shaking off the dark of his nightmares. As he gazes upon Castiel's calm features, eyes filled with affection for the soul he saved and still protects, the room around him flickers between Earth and Hell. It scares the hunter, yet only Cas can see it. He wipes his tears away with the back of his hands, confused as to why they're there. Though he remembers everything he dreams now, he doesn't want to. He wants to shuck the memories back inside the dark hole they climbed out of, filling it with cement and leaving it to be forgotten forever. It doesn't work like that, though... it never did.

From where he huddles, he can't see Sam and Gabriel in the doorway. They hold their breathes, unable to decide whether or not it's safe to join the younger angel. Before they can speak up, Dean grabs his one time savior. Gabriel stiffens and steps forward, however Cas reaches behind him to wave him away. The hunter's arms are wrapped around Castiel's chest, face buried in his shirt as he cries. One arm wraps around the hunter's back, the other reaching to bury fingers in brown hair, and Cas stays with him. Silent and steady like the rock Dean needs now.

“What's wrong with him?” Sam asks. “Why did his eyes turn black like that?”

“... He's reliving his time in Hell, Sammy,” Gabriel sighs. “Even though it's through dreams and sleepwalking, it's still affecting his soul as it did then.”

“... He's turning into a demon.”

“Basically. The darkness he managed to keep at bay with sheer willpower is beginning to spread again,” he informs. “It really is amazing, that mind of his. A work of art in itself. Whenever something horrible happens to him, he tucks it away and builds up a wall to keep it from harming him again. Those walls are created and reinforced by his willpower... his will to live and survive. But as that will faded from increasing loneliness and self-hatred, those walls started crumbling. They released the darkness of those memories to overtake him again.”

That insight surprises Sam, but it also hurts him all the more. Dean was doing so well before. He never talked about what happened down there, though he did admit to being Alistair's pupil, and Sam never really bothered asking. Perhaps he should've. Maybe if he knew what Dean went through down there, he would've known what to watch for. What he couldn't press and how to act around him seem so much more important now. Sam just never viewed his stronger older brother as broken. He had no clue how shattered Dean was back then, he just chose to ignore it because Dean acted like it didn't matter. He was a fool.

“This really _is_ all my fault, isn't it?” Sam whispers.

“... We'll make all this better, Sammy. I promise.”

“What if you can't? What if Cas is too late?”

“... He won't be.”

Cas stays with Dean for a long while, just letting him get it all out. His patience is something the hunter will forever be grateful for. As he clings to the warm body of the unmovable angel, the hunter calms to the sound of his heartbeat. When he's finished hiccuping the last of his sobs, he pushes away from the angel in embarrassment. Though Cas tries to lock eyes with those green orbs, Dean refuses to look at him.

There's a long moment of silence. Cas tries hard to garner the hunter's attention, but Dean is still being stubborn. Finally, he can't help but reach over and grasp that stubbly chin. He turns the green-eyed man's face to look at him, blue eyes soft and searching, however Dean's orbs still lock on the floor in shame.

“Don't do that, Dean. You have no reason to be ashamed, not in front of me. I shall never judge you,” Cas comments honestly. “You are my best friend. You've been the only life I ever wanted to protect more than my own since I pulled you from Hell, there will never be a time I turn my back on you for something as petty as emotions. Though I don't always understand them, I try. I try so very hard to understand what you're feeling and why. But I need help.”

“... I hate feeling like this... so helpless and scared,” Dean admits after a moment. “I'm not supposed to feel this way, I'm supposed to be strong and defiant... I'm supposed to save the world...”

“Dean, you aren't Atlas,” Cas offers softly. “The world is not your burden, but his. Never think you have to shoulder such a responsibility on your own. I'm here for you, just as you tried to be there for me when I was human. Though things didn't turn out the way we wanted, you tried your best and I'll be forever grateful for that. Right now, though, you need me. It's okay to need someone, Dean. To need a shoulder to lean on. You taught me that, but now it's time for you to practice what you preach.”

The confession comes as a shock to Dean. When Cas was human, he knew he could've done much better for him. He turned him away in order to protect Sam, something he's regretted since, but Cas found a way to stand on his own two feet. Dean was both proud and guilty. Now, he looks upon his angel... such a strong angel. Cas has grown even stronger with each struggle he was forced to endure. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, this man is the only one that he would trust with his very soul should it come down to that.

At the thought, Dean quickly looks around the office. Sam and Gabriel have left for the library, so they're alone. When he looks back into those heavenly blues, he sees understanding and patience. He can see a fondness he knows rests in his own green eyes, a tenderness he's never seen placed there for any other, and Dean forces his walls down just this once. He huddles against Castiel's chest, one hand gripping tight to his jacket, and just lets everything tumble out. All his doubts, all his fears. Everything is lain out there for the angel, the hunter unable to stop once it starts.

“I hated it,” he mumbles into Castiel's shirt. “There was always so much blood, my hands were stained with it. I knew no one was coming for me, I knew the only way to get away was to conform... just like I had to when dad was pissed off at me. Alistair was good to me, he protected me after I gave up. He took better care of me than dad did, never left me alone unless I wanted to wander off.”

“He was grooming you, Dean... but for what? To torture souls?”

“No... not entirely,” he admits. “Alistair said a lot about me being the next King of Hell, that I had so much potential for it. The thing that scared me most, though... was the fact I _liked_ the idea. I liked the attention and the praise, being good at something to the point I was a legend, and having people look up to me like I actually mattered. Not all of them did, but many did. It made me sick just as much as it made me... happy. I've never been that happy before. Every day was a fight with myself. I was tearing myself apart... and now I'm doing it all over again.”

“Things will get better, Dean. I will be here to save you again, I promise you,” he states with his lips against the hunter's forehead. “There's no need to worry.”

Dean sighs contently at the feeling, lifting his gaze to lock with blue. Without really thinking it over, overcome by the loneliness he always feels after a nightmare and the need for comfort brought by too much fear, he presses his lips against Castiel's. It surprises the other, his heartbeat hammering in his chest as soft and plump lips move against his own. Hesitantly, he kisses back. It's not that he's only trying to give the hunter what he wants, Castiel's feelings have grown impossibly since raising Dean and he's found he's wanted the green-eyed man since that moment.

Unfortunately, it's hard to convince a person they matter when they can't even see it themselves. Dean pulls away, suddenly unbelieving in what he just did. Before Cas can say anything to soothe his nerves, the frazzled male stands and stumbles past the angel. With a mumbled apology, Dean hurries back toward his room.

Dean is in complete shock, one hand covering his mouth as his wide eyes stare ahead of him. He's been sitting on his bed for a few minutes now, repeatedly going over his kiss with Cas and wondering what the fuck he was thinking. Cas is his best friend, he doesn't feel that way about him, so why would he risk that friendship for one night of comforting sex? Why the hell did he have to accidentally groom himself to only find comfort in another's bed? The hunter buries his face in his hands, mentally berating himself.

“Dean,” Cas states from the door. “I understand you don't want to talk right now, but please don't berate yourself. You can't help what you want or what your body needs, you're just looking for an escape and I understand that. I'm not angry with you. When you're ready to talk, just tell me.”

It's like the angel can see right through him. Although that thought unnerves the hunter, he nods in answer to Cas. He can never hide anything from the other. His bedroom door closes and Dean lies down, closing his eyes to try and get some actual sleep. He has no luck, he ends up back in Hell and surrounded by the fires there. But this time isn't like the rest... there is no Alistair and no torment. It's just him and the darkness.

Cas returns to the library to find Sam and Gabriel at the table, both listening to the monitor although they try and hide that fact. Upon their questioning gazes, Cas explains as much as possible without retelling Dean's tale of torment. That's _his_ business, the angel has no right to give out such information. Though Sam tries to get more out of him, Cas can be as stubborn as any Winchester and refuses. Eventually, the taller male gives up.

There's noise on the monitor and they all still, hoping Dean gets a little sleep after all this time of restless dreams. It's only whimpering, a far cry from the screams and begging of the beginning, and they decide to let it go for now. When the hunter next wakes, they'll try and deal with things a little better, but until then they have to wait. Cas shared enough to pinpoint about where they are in Dean's breakdown, glad all this is nearly over with... but they still lack something to heal him.


	6. Dean's Worst Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is suffering, his anger growing by the second although it's completely unwarranted. In the meantime, Sam is growing increasingly upset with Dean's lack of self-worth. Castiel isn't taking his obliviousness well and Sam has to point out the obvious to Dean, who just doesn't seem to understand the angel's feelings. Not only is Dean coming to terms with his emotions for Cas, but his illness has moved up to the next phase... and Sam is terrified of what may come after it.

The afternoon is when they next see Dean, the hunter searching for food and quite grumpy. He doesn't make eye contact with Cas, still embarrassed about his idiotic move of last night, and doesn't bother to speak to anyone. All eyes upon him are wary and sympathetic... they make him sick. Deep within himself, he knows that anger is senseless. It shouldn't be there, he should be happy they're worried about him. The more they worry, however, the angrier he gets on the inside.

As he makes himself a sandwich, Gabriel pulls himself up on the counter beside him curiously. The archangel has always liked Dean, though their history together seems anything but, and he knows Sam would be lost without the older Winchester. To see him suffer in such a manner, especially without his own meddling, just seems wrong on a level he would never touch.

“You know, Dean-o... if you need to talk, we're all here for you.”

“I don't need to talk,” he bites out. “I'm fine!”

“What are you seeing at this very moment, Dean?” Gabriel wonders skeptically. “And don't lie, I'm a fucking _angel_ I can tell.”

“... You have black eyes, you all do,” Dean sighs out. “The floor looks like it's melting, the ceiling looks charred, and the counter is on fire. But I know none of it's real, so I'm fine. I'll just ignore it.”

“Yeah?” Gabriel wonders. “Okay. Get me a beer, would you?”

Dean raises a brow in question, yet turns to the fridge. The handle is red, but he shakes it off and reaches for it. Sam opens his mouth to call for the other, yet a wave of Gabriel's hand has his voice gone. When the hunter grips the handle, the searing pain is immediate and his hallucinations waver as it assaults him. He jerks his hand away and Gabriel returns the handle to it's cool metal state.

“You keep ignoring shit like that and when it's real, it'll hurt like hell,” the trickster points out. “Now come here so I can heal your damn hand.”

“What the fuck makes you think I need your brand of help?” Dean growls out. “If you have to heal something after the lesson, there's a damn good chance the lesson isn't fucking worth it!”

Cas carefully reaches out and grips Dean's injured hand, his Grace soothing the hunter's anger as it works through his system. Not only does he heal him and calm the storm inside, but Cas searches his mind and soul for that darkness. It's there, pulsing in the center of his body, but it's dormant for the moment. The size is disturbing, the pitch of it even more so. Though he could see Dean's pure soul from miles away in Hell, had he been late enough for this pitch to take over... he never would've found him unless he looked for the absolute darkest soul within the pit. As pure a human as Dean makes, it's only matched by how dark a demon he'd be.

“Dean, I know the lesson seems mean, but Gabriel has a point. Things like this can't just be ignored. I know seeing black in our eyes scares you,” he says placating. “You need to tell us these things so we can protect you from yourself. It might be difficult and you may not want to show weakness, but we understand. You have to believe that.”

“... I'm fine.”

He walks away, turning his back on his one time savior. Sam slams a fist on the tabletop, startling all three males in the kitchen, and points to his throat in anger. With a sheepish grin, Gabriel snaps his fingers to allow him his voice back. The taller male wastes no time, standing to grip Dean's upper arm and shoving him into a chair at the table. The shorter male is surprised by the force his brother rarely shows him. Then again, when Sam gets pissed they usually end up in a fist fight. He watches the other pace a moment, trying to sneak off a second later. It's shut down fast, the taller man placing a large hand on Dean's chest and shoving him back down.

Whatever Sam has to say is obviously important enough to man-handle his older brother, so Dean huffs and sits still. Gabriel stays on the counter-top, thoroughly enjoying Dean's discomfort. Cas, on the other hand, sits across from the hunter curiously. He doesn't normally get in the middle of the siblings' arguments, but he's always alert for a downward spiral between them. That usually leads to busted lips and bruised bodies.

“I know what you're going through, Dean,” Sam sighs. “I went through the same thing, or did you forget? Unless you'd like me to commit you like I had to be, you'd better damn well start being a bit more cooperative! We're trying to _help_ you. I know you don't think we should, I know you probably think it's a lost cause, but we're doing it _anyway_! You wouldn't give up on me, I won't give up on you!”

“... You should,” Dean says with acid in his quiet tone. “Everyone will be better off without me. I'm a failure. I've failed dad, you, the world... Cas... I don't deserve to live. The only thing I was ever good at was what Alistair taught me. I don't belong here, I belong in Hell.”

“You belong _here_!”

“Why! For what possible reason do you want me here?” he shouts. “To ignore me? To lock yourself in your room and pretend I don't exist? To yell at me for caring and bringing you back from the brink of death again? Because we both know I'm gonna do it again. You want everything to change and I can't... I just can't! Everything in my life has been the same damn thing since mom died and I can't let it all change like you can! Nothing changes in Hell, everything stays the same. I'm better off there...”

He's silenced when Sam's open hand strikes him across the face. The silence in the kitchen is heavy, shocked expressions circling the room, and Sam's hand is shaking in disbelief as he pulls it away from his older brother. Gabriel's jaw drops, his sucker falling to the floor, and Cas is torn between comforting Dean and shielding Sam from the inevitable attack. They could hear a pin drop it's so quiet, even the hum of the fridge silenced.

“Did you... Did you just _bitch slap_ me?” Dean asks flabbergasted.

“If you'd stop acting like a bitch, I wouldn't have to treat you like one,” Sam sputters in his own defense.

“You bitch slapped me! What the fuck, Sam!”

“You may not think you matter, Dean,” Cas says so softly they would've missed it in a louder room. “You may think your loss wouldn't matter to anyone... but it would matter to at least one person.”

“Sam doesn't care...”

“I wasn't talking about Sam,” the angel remarks with his eyes downcast.

Before the green-eyed male can question him, Cas stands and walks away. His hands ball at his sides, head staying bowed as he passes through the doorway and out of sight. Within the quiet is a thick layer of depression and sadness, no doubt from the angel that just departed. Suddenly, Dean feels like the biggest ass in the world. He wonders how Cas can do that so easily, make him feel that way with just a look... or lack thereof.

“What was that all about?” Dean murmurs.

“Oh my Father, you're an idiot!” Gabriel blurts out as he tosses his hands in the air in defeat. “A completely emotionally constipated dumbass! He wasn't talking about Sam, he was talking about himself! If anything happens to you, Cas will lose his own reason for living. And if you do that to my baby brother, so help me, I'll hunt your ass down in the afterlife and kick it for the rest of eternity!”

“Cas has plenty of reason to live without me.”

“I'm gonna hit him,” the archangel announces. “I swear to my Father I'm gonna beat the shit out of him! Hold me back, Sammy, or we won't have to wait for those fucking nightmares to kill him!”

Sam quickly gets between the two, one hand held out toward each. He needs to think quickly, find a way to resolve this before things get nuclear. Talking to Dean about feelings is always a no-no, it's been that way for as long as he can remember. On the rare occasion emotions are a necessity to speak about, Sam has had to employ many tactics to keep Dean guessing on which he'll use next. That way the other can't get used to the methods and develop ways to work around them.

“Dean, do you remember when Cas stayed behind in Purgatory?” he asks quickly. “Or when we thought he was killed by those Leviathans?”

“... Yeah, I remember.”

“Do you remember how you felt? How you acted?” he continues. “Well, think of that and multiply it by the way you've felt each and every time someone we cared about died. That's gonna be what Cas feels if anything ever happens to you. Do you understand?”

“... Why would he feel like that?”

“Because, Dean, contrary to your self-hating point of view... you _do_ matter to some people. You matter to Cas. To the angel that risked his life to raise you from Hell, that lost his connection with Heaven to stop the apocalypse for you, that died multiple times protecting you, that chose you over Heaven more than once...”

“I get it, I get it, fuck,” Dean snaps. “You don't have to go through years of shit to explain how much the guy gave up for us.”

“No, Dean, not _us_... _you_ ,” Sam points out. “He never answered me when I called him, only you. He never came when I needed help, just you. You're all he cares about. I may be his friend, but you'll always mean so much more to him. He _loves_ you!”

Now the archangel is back to that overjoyed state of mind, the gossip nearly making him fall from his perch he's leaning too far forward in anticipation. He always knew Cas had a thing for Dean, it's not difficult to tell in the way they interact, however he would've pegged it for curiosity or the urge to fuck a human before love. Angels rarely bother with emotions past instinctual, though he's been known to dabble, and to see Cas allowing those locked up feelings to grow and thrive is a thrilling sight. He knew the moment he heard that little angel was questioning orders, courtesy of 'angel radio', that Cas was going to turn out more like him than Heaven would ever want.

Cas stands outside, blue gaze taking in the sky above him. It's a marvelous sight, so pristine and bright, and it never fails to ease his troubled mind. The road is empty before him, the wind rustling tree limbs in a ghostly whisper, and he can feel Dean moving closer to him. The hunter stands at his side, green eyes following his own gaze as he rocks back and forth nervously. His hands are in his pockets, Cas doesn't even have to look to know that.

“Cas... I... I'm sorry,” Dean sighs out. “I just... You're... an _angel_ , man! And I'm just... _so_ not worth it. And I...”

“You're worth it to me,” Castiel replies firmly. “I don't care what your outlook on yourself is, I don't care what value you've placed upon your head... You will always be infinitely more valuable to me. What you see as worthless, I see as priceless.”

“... You know, all this time I've known you... I've always felt this strange connection to you,” Dean admits sheepishly. “I'm drawn to you, I want to be with you, I want to protect you, and... I just... I don't know how to deal with that, you know? I've never wanted that before, not with someone that can actually survive this fucked up life I live. And I think... I think I really lo...”

Castiel had sucked in a breath at that, yet is surprised when the sentence is cut short. He glances over at Dean, who's eyes are unfocused and dim. His body is relaxed, limp as he stands, and then he's turning back toward the bunker door. As Dean disappears into the bunker, Cas follows him curiously. He walks down the spiral staircase, ignoring as Gabriel and Sam join them in the map room, and passes into the library. He takes a seat at the table and stares straight ahead, unblinking and still.

It takes a moment, but soon Gabriel is sitting beside the green-eyed hunter. He pillows his head on his arms again, watching the other curiously. He knows a lot about souls and those drawn from perdition, however he's never been this close to one. Not physically, but emotionally. He likes Dean and he'd love nothing more than to bend Sam over for the rest of eternity, so seeing them in this situation hurts him more than he'd like.

“Hey, Dean-o,” he states quietly. “Whacha doin'?”

“Sitting...”

“I can see that. Any particular reason?”

“... No... I don't think so...”

“Where are you? In Heaven?”

“No... Purgatory,” he answers. “Benny left... separated... looking for Cas... He's here, I know he is... he's here... gotta find him... can't go without Benny...”

Sam sits across from Dean, who immediately stiffens at the sound of his movement. Castiel remembers Dean telling him about this. He and Benny were attacked by a pack of werewolves and separated in the forest, so Dean stayed put until the vampire returned. As he waited, however, a stray werewolf attacked him. Benny was just in time to help him kill off the stray.

He carefully slides between Dean and Sam, motioning for the other to move back a bit. Castiel didn't tell Sam, but Dean's roughest patch is yet to come... the part where he forces himself to remember the human he used to be. To be completely honest, Dean was probably a greater threat to himself than any demon in Hell tried to be. The problem is... he really _is_ powerful enough to be King of Hell with the proper teachings. Dean is a soldier, one that took to leadership rather easily, and that's really all that's needed coupled with his immense willpower.

When Dean shakes himself from his trance, he's surprised to see everyone staring at him. This time, though, he shakes it off and leaves. He's on his way to the garage to work on the Impala, anything to keep his mind focused and free of drowsiness. The possibilities for harming himself there, however, have Castiel trailing along. He knows what Dean was going to tell him, he caught the thought before it reached Dean's lips, yet he's not about to press it. He'll tell him when he's ready and not a moment sooner.

“You don't have to follow me,” Dean grumbles.

“I know I don't have to... I want to,” Cas answers easily. “I like being with you.”

“... You're very difficult to understand, you know that?”

“... I'm still speaking plain English to you, correct? I haven't changed dialects on accident?” the angel wonders hesitantly.

“It's still English,” Dean assures with a sigh. “I just meant... I don't understand why you like me so much, why you want to be around me.”

“Because you're you,” the other offers with a minute smile. “I need no other reason.”

There's a soft sigh, but it doesn't hide the smile he gets in return. As much as the demon in him wants to fight this, the human still clinging to life loves the affection. It's something he's not used to, even as a pure human, and Dean tends to shy away from emotions like that. With Cas, however, he finds himself running full speed toward the other. It both unsettles him and fills his heart with warmth. For the rest of the day, Castiel watches Dean work in the garage. When dinner comes around, they join Sam in the kitchen... and then the hunters retire to bed.

A few days pass where nothing happens. Dean still tosses and turns, but his waking trances are few and far between. His sleepwalking seems a thing of the past. As such, Gabriel takes Castiel to Heaven in order to locate a bit more information on this occurrence. He told Sam he wanted to find out if any other soul was lucky enough to be saved from this nightmare phase. Although Sam is left behind to watch Dean, their guards have relaxed and he's been given a bit more leeway. The chance of him harming himself again are slim and Sam doesn't mind him wandering about alone anymore.

On the fourth day of quiet, however, Sam notices that Dean is _too_ quiet. There hasn't been a closing door, shuffling feet, or the sound of his music all day. It's nearly eight and they should've had dinner a couple hours ago, however Dean never showed up to make it. With a sigh, the taller male stands and heads to the kitchen. Perhaps the other started and fell asleep or something.

True enough, a mound of burger has been set atop the counter. It's still in it's packaging and the spices Dean uses for hamburgers are beside it... but Dean isn't there. It's about that time that Sam notices a knife is missing from the block on the counter. Panic strikes him hard, leaving him unbalanced as he stumbles to the door. He needs to locate Dean before he hurts himself!

“Dean!” he shouts. “Dean, where are you?”

He barges into the garage, where the other has been spending a lot of time, and finds Dean huddled by the Impala. Sam moves closer, carefully and slowly so he doesn't provoke him. When he gets close enough, Dean turns to face him. There's a sick little smile on his lips, as though he's learned something remarkable and wants to share it with the one person that he looks up to. The knife drops to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence, and blood splatters atop the cement. Sam sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of crimson pooling on the floor.

“Dean...”

“I remember,” Dean states gleefully. “I remember them all... every one... I'll never forget... never...”

Sam looks down on his brother's arms, almost throwing up at the multiple lines carved into the skin. They're short and small, laying along the width of his wrist with only about half an inch between each one. They're covering both his forearms, the angry red gashes spitting blood in protest of the treatment. Dean's a bit wobbly from blood loss as he turns to face Sam, green eyes dull but so happy and proud of himself. Sam just wants to cry.

“Oh, Dean,” he whispers. “What did you do to yourself?”

“I remembered,” he comments as though it's the most important thing in the world. “I remembered Amy and Jordan, Trisha and Carl, Linda and Evan... they're all here... each one I hurt... I carve them in my skin to remember... I'll never forget... never forget what I did... always punished for what I did...”

“... Cas... I think he's worse,” Sam murmurs.

That's all it takes and, just as Dean passes out, Cas and Gabriel show up in the garage. The younger angel gasps and hurries to Dean's side, healing the bloody mess with a touch. Gabriel's golden eyes are worried and sad, turning to Sam hesitantly before he looks away again. It doesn't take a genius to tell the trickster found something less than promising. Castiel lifts Dean into his arms, glancing at the two quietly before carrying the shorter hunter to his bedroom. He'll sit with him there. Before he can leave, however, Sam's hand is on his shoulder.

“What's going on, Cas?” he demands firmly. “Dean said he tormented other souls, he never said anything about hurting himself! What the hell was that?”

“... When Dean was in Hell, he fell into the life of a demon so well it scared him,” the angel informs softly. “In order to remember the human he was, to cling to that life he never wanted to give up, Dean started punishing himself for all the people he hurt in order to keep his freedom. This is only the first step he took... it gets worse.”

“Worse? How much worse?” Sam snaps.

“When the punishments stop being effective and start being sadistic pleasure, Dean realizes he can find a way out for only a day,” Cas sighs. “It's something he can repeat and it's very effective... but I never figured out what it was. I'm sorry, Sam. All I know is that it's bad enough that he wiped it from his memory.”

“So it might not happen!”

“No,” Gabriel murmurs. “It'll happen. We have to be here to stop it.”

“How can we stop it if we don't know what it is!”

Neither angel has an answer for that and Sam is beginning to wonder if they have any answers at all. He allows Castiel to carry Dean to his room, praying he can keep the other from his nightmares for a while. His hazel gaze drops down to the bloody knife, his stomach still queasy at the sight of his brother's life-fluid. This is his fault, he should've watched him better.

“Don't think that way,” Gabriel scolds. “We all thought he was getting better. It's just choosing it's time carefully... it knows we won't let him hurt himself.”

Sam sends a questioning gaze to the other, the obvious question of 'it' in his eyes. The thing Gabriel learned within Heaven, is that these nightmares are being caused by the demon born within Dean's subconscious. It's alive and looking to claim the body it was promised upon his death. Nothing can stop it... except Castiel.


	7. Insanity is Contagious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Dean's bout of self inflicted injury, Sam and the angels aren't giving him room for another accident. Though things have calmed down, the demon within him is far from giving up. It's as tenacious as the hunter it was born of. Unable to find an opportunity with the others watching Dean, it takes any opportunity given. While Dean transfers to the final stage of his illness, Gabriel is getting bored. He turns his sights on Sam, eager to seduce the younger Winchester. In the meantime, Dean is tired of denying himself what he wants and finally gives in to Castiel.

Dean is once more quiet, sleeping well enough and going about his day as though his trances never happened. After the scare with his self-mutilation, the trio have been breathing down his neck constantly. Any weapons have been confiscated, all meals are taken care of by Gabriel, and Dean isn't allowed anywhere without a chaperone... not even the restroom. The emptiness within his chest has come to a standstill, although he can still feel it resting in the pit of his chest cavity. The sensation is unpleasant and he's constantly complaining about it.

As he showers that afternoon, Sam sits with him. They talk about the lack of hunts, a bit on what they think Charlie's up to in Oz, and even dabble in debates on cultural differences in monsters. Sam controls most of the conversation, his older brother just tossing in a tidbit now and then so he knows he's still with him. It's when the other exits the shower in his towel and stands before the mirror that things turn sour. Dean's green eyes flick up to meet his reflection... and see black.

“Fuck!” he shouts as he flings himself backwards.

He slips on the water he's trailed from the shower stall, Sam rushing forward to grab him. Once more he's too late, as Dean collides with the corner of the sink and falls to the floor unconscious. Sam is almost tempted to sigh in exasperation and grab a towel to clean up the blood, but instead calls on Cas and fixes his brother's towel. The bathroom is a place only Sam is allowed to go to with Dean, as he considers it a very private place. When he and Sam were kids, they bathed together, and even now they dress in the same room. The taller male is his brother and it's okay to be naked in the same room as his brother... but not Cas, who he's crushing hard on and might invite into the shower for a quick fuck. And _definitely_ not Gabriel, who would probably tape him and put it on the net to go viral as a porno.

When Cas arrives to heal Dean, he doesn't act as though he's in love with the nearly naked man on the floor. Instead, he acts with compassion and care. His only focus is healing Dean's head injury. Afterward, he lifts the other into his arms and carries him back to his bedroom. He'll dry and dress him there. When he's gone, Sam returns to Gabriel and lets Castiel take over his shift.

The kitchen is filled with a lulling music when he walks in, the trickster conducting the orchestra with his sucker from his seat at the table. Sam can't help but chuckle at the sight, pulling out the chair beside him to sit down. With a wide impish grin, Gabriel takes in the weary form of his favorite Winchester. He grabs Sam's wrist, holding his weight upon the table as he gets ready to sit, and yanks him off balance. The taller male collides against him with a gasp, their lips locking harshly with his fall. Gabriel doesn't waste the opportunity, slipping in his tongue and sliding a cherry flavor along Sam's gums. The hunter pulls away in shock.

“Wh-what was that?” he gasps out.

“A kiss,” Gabriel remarks as though it's obvious. “Would've gotten better, but _someone_ had to pull away.”

“Why are you kissing me?”

“Why _else_ would I kiss you? Seriously, Sammich, I'm beginning to think hanging around Dean has killed off your precious brain cells. Even a _five year old_ can tell why people kiss each other.”

The hunter is completely flabbergasted, his mind unable to connect anything at the moment. Gabriel... Loki... the archangel doubling as a trickster... _likes_ him? The same guy that tormented him by making him watch Dean die a thousand different ways for a lesson? The same guy that locked him in a world of sitcoms and had him hit in the dick during a game show? The world is wrong... the universe has decided to completely fuck him over one last time, he just knows it. With that, his brain short circuits and he falls into his seat. Gabriel grins, giving himself a pat on the back for blowing Sam's mind so perfectly. It's not everyday the taller male goes into a complete meltdown like that.

Dean wakes a couple hours later, his stomach rumbling and his skin rather warm for being in the bathroom. When he opens green orbs, however, he finds that he's not in the bathroom. He's in his room, dressed in sleeping pants, and Castiel is sitting beside his bed to watch him. The hunter blinks a few times, trying to clear the fog from his mind. The last thing he remembers was seeing his demonic reflection in the mirror and trying to get away, which hand him falling and cracking his head on the sink. In no time between the shower and that did he get dressed.

“... Did Sammy dress me?” he asks hopefully.

“No, I did,” Cas answers easily.

“... You dried me off and dressed me?”

“Yes.”

“... By hand?”

“No, of course not,” the angel frowns. “That would be invading your privacy and I promised not to do that if I could help it. I used my angelic power. Are you feeling okay? Does your head still hurt, Dean?”

He nods, as he does have a nasty headache, but he feels well enough and tells Cas as much. Allowing him to heal the headache anyway, Dean gets out of bed and pulls on a shirt to cover his naked torso. Afterward, the two head to the kitchen so he can get something to eat. They're quiet the whole way, Castiel monitoring Dean's soul and Dean ignoring the heated gaze upon him. God, what those eyes do to him.

Upon entering the kitchen, Dean is immediately rushing to leave it. Confused, Castiel glances in to see Sam and Gabriel. The trickster has Sam spread on the table as he straddles his lap, the two locked in a fierce kissing match as their tongues clash. With an exasperated sigh, he clears his throat and gazes pointedly at them both. The two exchange a sheepish glance, getting off the table and sitting down in their abandoned chairs instead. As Cas turns to locate Dean again, however, he finds that he moves faster then he had thought... especially with the motivation of his brother about to get nailed by Gabriel.

They split up to find him, wondering how far he really could've gotten. The answer is 'not very'. Apparently, he tripped and fell into a room they hadn't yet come across. Dean shakes his head as he looks about. It appears to be a storage room for the kitchen, much larger than what they have in the kitchen itself. There are even large freezers down here. Green eyes flicker over to the stairs he fell down after falling through the door. There were only a few, but they still managed to bruise him up. He rubs his arm carefully and stands up.

“Damn, that hurt,” he murmurs. “How did we miss this place before?”

He takes a step closer to the middle of the room, eyes passing over a few hooks for hanging large slabs of meat and a couple lengths of rope. A shiver runs along his spine and everything takes on a different scene. He can see fire in patches on the floor, radiating such heat sweat is already rolling down his back, and black eyes are gleaming at him from the darkness. He feels at home, the echoic screams of victims past ringing in his ears like a welcome ballad. He runs a hand over the hooks, and then the rope. Finally, he turns toward the freezers. They're the older type that had to have a wooden block to keep the door open when someone went in. With a sick twisted smirk, Dean opens the freezer and walks in. The chill is like winter upon his skin as he shuts the door behind him.

Sam and Gabriel nearly slide into one another as they head back to the kitchen from opposite directions. Cas is walking toward them from the kitchen, having searched the other side of the bunker. It's been nearly an hour and they haven't found Dean. By chance, Sam glances toward the wall and catches the slight seam in it. Curiously, he heads over and feels along the seam. There's a handle in the wooden molding... a hidden door. He opens it up with a push, realizing Dean could've easily fallen against it and opened it. His heart thuds in his chest as he walks down the few steps.

“I can sense him in here,” Cas frowns. “It's faint, but it's here.”

“I don't see anything, though,” Sam replies. “Unless... you don't think he'd go in the freezer, do you? I mean... Hell's supposed to be hot, not cold.”

“The demon born of his time there is looking to kill him, Sammy,” Gabriel states quietly. “It doesn't care how, it just wants to return to Hell. That's where it thrived, where it ruled, and it can't get there without Dean dying and giving over his soul to him again.”

Sam rushes over to the freezer, the angels taking the other two. Together, they open the doors and peek in. Castiel and Sam get nothing, but Gabriel gets the one thing they fear. Dean is lying on the floor of the freezer... completely still and blue-lipped. Castiel holds his door open while Gabriel hurries in to retrieve the shorter hunter. His breathing is short and labored, the cold getting to him rather quickly with the overheated blood he gets from his nightmares of Hell.

He heals the other quickly, afraid if he waits to take him to the library he won't make it. Dean is carried to the library and lain on the leather couch. Color has returned to his paling skin and his lips are no longer blue, but he's still shivering and Sam immediately wraps him in a blanket. They sit and wait with baited breath, praying they weren't to late. Finally, one green eyes peeks open a bit blearily.

“Damn it, Sammy, I told you to leave the air conditioner alone,” he murmurs tiredly before falling back asleep.

“... He's okay,” Sam sighs out in relief. “He'll be fine.”

“Is this what you meant, Cassy?” Gabriel wonders solemnly. “Suicide? He was trying to kill himself before the demons could?”

“It's entirely plausible,” Castiel replies. “Within Hell, demons will torture and tear apart souls until they're 'dead'. They'll stay unconscious until they manage to regenerate, and then the torment will start all over. If Dean 'kills' himself down there, he'll stay unconscious until he's healed. The demons will leave him be, because it's no fun unless the victim is awake.”

“This has to stop,” Sam murmurs out fearfully. “I can't lose him, it has to stop! I don't care what that fucking demon wants, I want my brother back!”

Gabriel sets a hand on his shoulder, dropping it to rub soothing circles on his back. It works for a little while, the taller male gazing upon his older brother in fear. This is getting way out of hand. Sure he wanted Dean to move on, but he didn't want this. When he meant 'move on', he didn't mean 'move on to the afterlife'. He kneels on the floor beside the couch, one hand reaching to hold Dean's, and Castiel watches quietly.

When Dean wakes the next time, it's around dinner and Gabriel is in the kitchen getting things ready. It only takes a snap of his fingers, but he got bored and decided to clean the place by hand. Sam and Castiel are both sitting with him, his head on Sam's lap and his feet over Castiel's. With a groan, he fights to sit up. They watch him stretch and yawn, the hunter finally managing a good rest. He notes that both males are reading and tries to sneak off to get some time on his own. Before his butt gets a few inches off the couch, however, both Sam and Cas grab the back of his shirt to jerk him back down. Neither remove their gaze from their books.

“You're not going anywhere,” Sam remarks. “Not after the freezer incident.”

“Freezer?”

“You locked yourself in a freezer,” Castiel supplies helpfully. “We looked all over the bunker for you, but couldn't find you. The room you stumbled upon had a secret door hidden in the wall. When we located you, your lips were blue and you were having trouble breathing.”

“... Ah... I see... Well, I guess it can't be helped,” Dean sighs in resignation. “What are we having for dinner?”

Sam can't help the twitch in his brow at the reply, as though Dean has accepted that his life is nearing its end. If Sam can't accept it, why the hell should Dean be allowed to? The other stands and heads toward the kitchen, humming to himself like it's just another day. Castiel can sense the emotions tearing through Sam like a hurricane, his blue gaze sweeping over the other with a drowning sorrow. To get away from that gaze, Sam gets up and follows Dean to the kitchen.

He's already munching on some chips when Sam reaches him. The shorter hunter is sitting at the table with Gabriel, the two locked in a companionable silence. Green eyes glance over at Sam before returning to his food, obviously not in the mood for conversation at the moment. Especially when he knows that conversation is going to be a fight. He keeps his mouth shut and his gaze down as Sam sits across from him, Castiel taking the seat beside him almost hesitantly.

“You feeling okay, Dean-o?” Gabriel wonders.

“Yeah, fine,” he assures. “Had a chill, but it's going away. Did you guys figure out how to make me better yet?”

“Unfortunately, if you survive this you'll be the first rescued soul to do so,” the trickster frowns. “Once again, we'll have to wait for a certain point to intervene. Even then, only Cassy can help you. Sam and I can only help protect you from yourself.”

“So... you got nothing.”

The trickster can only shrug. They already decided not to tell much more to Dean, they don't want him stressing himself to the point they can't intervene. As such, there isn't much they can tell him without giving it all away... or nurturing suspicion. The demon within him will just have to work without their help. Dean finishes his dinner and heads down to get ready for bed. Without answers, he has little reason to stay with the trio. Sam stands to follow, but Dean reaches back and pulls Castiel along with him. Although he's worried about his libido, it's nothing compared to his worry about Sam's inclination to press issues he doesn't want to talk about.

Left alone with Sam, Gabriel sits and waits for him to finish his dinner... and then drags him off to his bedroom. Sam, too stunned to really protest, is tossed onto his bed and Gabriel locks the door behind him. He licks his lips and eyes the taller male lecherously. He steps up to the bottom of the bed and crawls along Sam's body to straddle his lap again.

“I've been dreaming of nailing you since I first saw you,” he purrs out.

“... God, I must _really_ be hard up,” Sam mutters.

“Nah, I just have a shit load of animal magnetism,” Gabriel grins. “You hunters... always attracted to the forbidden and mysterious.”

Sam smirks and hums to himself, watching as Gabriel undoes his pants. In all honesty, he's felt something for the trickster for a while. It wasn't overwhelming or love at first sight or anything, but when he saw him die for them... something struck his heart like lightening. Gabriel, ever joking and smiling... ever happy and mischievous... died to protect them. He loves the trickster, loves his attitude and impish delight in everything that goes on around him. Gabriel gazes up at him as he frees the hunter's cock, stroking it to life. He relishes the gasp from Sam, unprepared and surprised.

Once he's completely hard, he blows on it... and wraps his lips around the head. The moan is delicious and he sucks it in deeper. Sam's hand grips his brown locks, massaging Gabriel's scalp as that warm cavern sucks on his dick. Hazel eyes drowning in lust take in the sight before him, the head bobbing in his lap as he alternates hard and soft suction. The room is just too hot, the hunter pulling off his shirt before the sweat beading on his skin can soak in. Gabriel watches with a smirk, carefully pulling Sam's jean and boxers down his muscular legs. He snaps his fingers, procuring a bottle of lube and slicking up three of his fingers.

He's merciless on Sam's erection, using every shred of his centuries of experience to drive Sam crazy. It's just enough to distract the hunter from the fingers playing at his entrance. Carefully, he slides in the first one and Sam sucks in a sharp breath. He darts his gaze down to see what that sensation is. When he sees that Gabriel's fingering him, he tries to scoot back uncertainly. Gabriel hums along his thick erection and swallows him, working his throat around the hunter expertly, and that's all Sam needs to fall into compliance.

After he's stretched Sam enough, he uses a hand to spread the lube around the aching cock peeking from his open zipper. Gabriel pulls away from Sam and quickly sheds his clothes, eager to dive into his new lover and hoping the lack of contact doesn't bring him to his senses. He throws his clothing to the floor and lays between Sam's legs again, positioning himself before slowly sliding his erection into the hunter's entrance.

“Ah!” Sam gasps out.

“Sorry, baby, it'll get better,” Gabriel assures. “Just you wait... I'm gonna blow your mind.”

“Are you... s-serious?” Sam laughs out.

He starts moving, sliding his body along Sam's sensually. His hips gyrate, searching for that sweet spot that'll make the other scream. God how he wants to hear him scream. Finally, Sam moans and his body arches. With his mark located, Gabriel draws out and slams back in. His thrusts are harder, more sure, and nail Sam's prostate without falter. Nails are drawn down his back, long legs wrapping about his waist, and Sam is reduced to a mess of panting and moaning in no time. Gabriel plays his body like a fiddle and the hunter melts beneath each touch.

One hand drops between them, gripping Sam's neglected cock. A few strokes, nice and firm, and the hunter is spilling over their stomachs with a moan. His insides tighten around Gabriel and the trickster shoves himself in deep before shooting his warm fluids into Sam. Out of breath and high on euphoria, the two lay in a mess of limp and tangled limbs for a moment. Gabriel pulls out of Sam and rolls off him, laying at his side comfortably.

“Next time... you bottom,” Sam pants out. “I'm not too f-fond... of the... aftermath.”

“As long as there's a next time,” Gabriel grins cheekily.

He snaps his fingers to clean them up, too lazy to do anything more than that. The two of them lay quietly, the trickster snuggling up to his lover possessively. Sam knows he should be worried about Dean, that he should be with his brother, but Castiel's with him and that should be enough for now. Besides, his stress level was getting to the point he was near a breakdown. Relieving his stress with Gabriel was actually the best thing for him. Now he can focus on Dean with a calmed mind and think more clearly about this problem.

Dean sighs and looks over to Cas. He's sitting in the shower now, the hot water seemingly endless, and Castiel is sitting on Sam's chair by the sink. It was moved closer after Dean's slip. The hunter has the worst hard on, but he can't relieve himself without Cas hearing. It's already bad enough the other can see him naked, he doesn't need him ogling his erection. Not that Cas ogles anything, really, but... in Dean's mind he does. He palms his rock hard cock, biting back a moan at the feeling.

“Is everything okay, Dean?” Cas wonders calmly. “You've been in there a long while now.”

“I... I just need a bit of time alone.”

“You know I can't give you that, Dean,” the angel frowns.

“I need to... you know... jack off. Can't you give me a bit of privacy for that, man?”

“... I can help you if you'd like,” Castiel remarks in a near seductive purr.

Uncertain how to answer that, Dean lets his libido do the talking for him. The angel pulls him from the shower, dropping down on his knees and nuzzling Dean's crotch. The hunter goes weak in his knees, his angel holding tight to his hips as he slides to the ground. The angel takes Dean in his mouth, wasting no time getting to work. Dean whimpers when Castiel deep throats him, swallowing around him repeatedly to keep from gagging.

The sensation is amazing and Dean can't help pulling Cas from his dick, locking their lips eagerly. He licks Castiel's bottom lip and slips his tongue in when he moans. His muscle is beat back quickly, the angel taking control of the kiss as he leans over the hunter. Dean lays down on the tiled floor, the two lost in the heated kiss. Their hands explore, locating soft spots, and Dean tries hard to get Cas out of his clothes. It's too much too soon, though, and he knows it. He won't be able to go all the way, but the feeling of Castiel's hands on him... of his mouth against Dean's... it's so good.

Castiel returns to Dean's dick, ignoring his own need, and swallows him down again. One hand fondles his balls, massaging them with just the right amount of pressure. Dean squirms beneath him, hips thrusting upward only to be stopped by Castiel's other hand. Fingers dig into the angel's hair, Dean's eyes blown with lust as his breathing turns ragged with need. Finally, he cries out and his body arches with a shiver. Castiel drinks down his release, moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean gets out. “That was... that was... oh, god, that was so fucking hot. But... you didn't get to...”

“I'm fine,” Cas assures. “You should wash up.”

With a satiated hum, the hunter pulls himself back beneath the hot spray of the shower. Granted his life could end at any moment, but if it did... he might be able to go without regret. A stupid smile takes over his face, green orbs glancing back over at Castiel. The angel is still seated on the floor watching him, completely content with what just transpired.


	8. The Opportune Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has finally come and Castiel is ready for it. When Dean's soul retreats into his core, leaving his body limp and empty, he follows it into the hunter's mind. With his soul saved from his inner demon, the ordeal has left Dean's mind torn and shattered. He's weak and Sam is kept away from him while he rebuilds the wall in his mind. The reminder of his part in all this has Sam falling into a depression, though, and Gabriel finds it difficult to soothe his anxiety.

Two days later and Dean still hasn't had a problem with his inner demon. Then again, he doesn't let Cas out of his sight for very long. They've been making out frequently, progressing further toward penetration with each frisky meeting in random rooms away from Sam and Gabriel. Who are getting much closer themselves, though it's a hesitant relationship. Sam isn't ready for Dean to know, but it's so obvious the way they look at each other. He let's Sam have his secret, though, if only for a little while. Besides, Gabriel can keep Sam busy enough he won't notice what Dean's been up to with Castiel.

At the moment, he's lying on his bed while Castiel cleans up the room around him. Dean doesn't remember the last time he put his dirty clothes in the hamper, let alone washed them. Perhaps that's what he'll do today, wash his clothes... and let Cas fuck him on the dryer. A pleasant shiver travels the length of his spine at that thought.

“Hey, Cas,” he purrs. “You want to do laundry with me today?”

“... That doesn't sound _nearly_ as exciting as you're trying to make it sound,” the angel remarks suspiciously. “Will we be doing something _other_ than laundry? Is that some sort of code?”

“We'll be doing laundry,” Dean states flippantly. “And _you'll_ be doing _me_.”

“... What will I be doing with you?”

“What do you _want_ to do with me?” Dean grins lecherously.

It takes a couple minutes, but realization soon passes over Castiel's face. He gasps at where Dean's going with this, blue eyes wide as they stare at the male. Ever since their session in the shower, Dean's been overly horny and Castiel is wondering if it doesn't have something to do with his inner demon. The chance to defile an angel is something no demon would pass on. Before he can mention this to the hunter, however, he remembers they're not supposed to be telling Dean all this stuff. Castiel quiets immediately.

The green-eyed male gathers up his laundry, carrying the basket toward the door with a backward glance at Cas. The gaze is heated and filled with lust. Castiel hurries after Dean, telling himself it's only to make sure he's safe... and knowing deep down he'll give in to the other's desire. They pass Sam's room on the way, Dean faltering at the sound of a headboard thumping against a wall. Shaking it off, the hunter hurriedly rushes past. It's the last thing he wants to be hearing right now.

Dean turns a corner into the laundry room, his body stilling quickly as the basket falls to the floor. Curiously, Castiel watches him a moment. He carefully bends over to pick up the scattered clothes, keeping one eye on the hunter. Green pools are distant once more, flickering between black and green before settling for the vivid color they normally are.

“Dean?” Cas states in question. “Dean, are you okay? Where are you know? What's happening?”

He doesn't answer this time, so lost in his trance. Instead, Dean's body goes completely limp and he falls to the floor to join the clothing. Castiel catches him, turning him onto his back so he can see what's going on in those eyes. They stare straight ahead, dim and almost lifeless. It's as though Dean's soul has retreated into the core of himself and left his vessel empty. This is the moment they've been waiting for. Castiel lifts Dean into his arms and rushes toward his bedroom, crying out for Gabriel and Sam on the way past.

Whatever they were doing, they either leave things incomplete or just finished. As he's laying Dean atop his mattress with great care, the two enter the room disheveled and out of breath. He ignores their state, eyes on Dean alone, and carefully reaches out to enter the other's mind. One glance at Gabriel and he knows the other will back him up should he need it, but this... this is something he needs to do alone. With a deep breath in, Castiel closes his eyes and disappears into Dean's head.

It's so much like it was before; the screaming, the blood, the sadistic laughter. Castiel remembers exactly how things transpired when he rescued Dean, his own memories bleeding into that of Dean's. He can hear his army behind him, screaming battle cries and charging into the dismal pit of defeat that is Hell. He doesn't bother with them, simply hurries down the same path he took before. The clash of weapons and the dying sounds of demons are music to his ears even now. Deeper and deeper into the pit he glides, eyes pinned on the shimmering soul that can only be Dean's.

“Dean,” he calls out.

The man he loves turns to face him in surprise, just as he did the first time, green eyes devoured by black. He raises a blade, prepared to defend himself from this being of light, but Castiel doesn't give him the chance. One wing smacks the blade away, his hand gripping Dean's shoulder tightly to draw him in. Although he yells in protest, limbs struggling against his captor, Dean is no more a match for Cas now than he was then.

“Calm yourself,” he says. “All your struggling will end, all your pain and agony will disappear. You are the righteous man, you have work to do... It's time to rise from this pit and serve Heaven as you were meant to.”

Slowly Dean stops struggling, his body going limp within Castiel's grasp. It's the same he told him before, his Grace washing over the hunter to end his fight. The minute he's still, Castiel's giant wings spread. One flap has them shooting into the sky, the angel heading straight for the exit as angels battle around him. The whole place smells too much of sulfur, he's almost afraid the scent will cling to them when they return.

Sam watches Dean's body anxiously, his green eyes dead as they stare at the ceiling. He's never been so still before, not even in his sleep, and it's not something Sam likes to see. Gabriel is beside him, listening to the utter quiet suffocating them. He knows Castiel is within Dean's dreams, saving him in the same manner he did before... but he doesn't know what will happen afterward. No soul has ever gotten this far, no soul has ever been rescued like this. The trickster doesn't have the heart to tell Sam that. Golden eyes glance over at the taller male, searching and pleading. If this doesn't work it'll destroy Sam, especially with all the guilt he can sense within the other.

Finally, Castiel reappears at Dean's bedside. The smell of sulfur does linger upon his skin, as well as Dean's. The hunter lying prone on the bed is still empty eyed and still, his skin a bit pale beneath the dim light illuminating the room. His chest isn't even rising and falling with each breath, making Sam believe he's no longer alive. Gabriel glances to the younger angel in question.

“Is it over?” he asks.

“Yes. I rescued him from the pit and mended his soul just as I did before,” Castiel answers. “All that's left is for him to wake.”

“But... did you really mend his soul?” Sam inquires. “I mean, it was in his dream, wasn't it? Isn't his soul really broken _here_? Shouldn't you mend it here as well?”

“I can't deviate from the memories, Sam,” Cas sighs out. “I won't be able to mend Dean's soul here until he wakes from this nightmare. It might take time. You and Gabriel should go make dinner, he'll be hungry when he wakes.”

“... _If_ he wakes,” Sam mutters bitterly. “What if he doesn't? What if he dies right there on the bed and turns into a demon? I can't kill my own brother!”

“I can!” Gabriel says cheerfully. “Dean, not Cassy... I like Cassy.”

“You like Dean, too,” Cas frowns.

“Yes, but I'm willing to do what needs to be done to keep Sam from hating himself.”

“How noble of you,” Sam frowns.

Castiel sighs and sends a look their way; his request wasn't just a suggestion for Dean. He needs time alone with Dean. The trickster seems to understand this, gripping Sam's wrist and leading him out against his will. When the door closes behind them, Cas sits on the chair beside the bed and picks up Dean's hand in his. He brings the cold digits to his lips, kissing them sweetly before drawing them up to his forehead in a prayer-like fashion.

“Dean,” he says softly. “Dean, please wake up soon. You can't leave me like this, all alone and missing you. I won't be able to go on without you, I... I love you. I love you so much it's killing me to see you like this. Please, if you need something to live for then live for me... like I live for you.”

There's a moment of silence, the angel pleading with blue eyes that Dean can't see anymore. Then the hunter sucks in a sharp breath, fighting for air and seeing the coffin instead of his room. Hands reach up, trying to break through, and find no resistance. Slowly, the dark of the coffin gives way to the light in the room. Instead of dirt and forest and felled trees, Dean sees cement and blue eyes... Castiel's blue eyes. For the first time in forever, he's seeing clearly.

The clarity doesn't come without a price, however, and he finds he can't move anymore. His limbs are lead and his soul is weak, still torn apart from the ordeal. A hopelessness he's never felt is pressing down around him, the walls within his mind battered and fallen. It'll take him some time, but he'll have to rebuild the walls in his mind again.

“Cas,” he smiles tiredly.

“Dean, how are you feeling?”

“Tired... weak... hopeless... About the same as the first time you saved me,” he sighs out. “I think I damaged something.”

“Your soul is rather beaten,” Castiel offers. “I'm going to put you to sleep so I can mend it again, is that okay?”

“Sleep sounds so damn good right now... but... no nightmares, right?” Dean wonders timidly.

“No nightmares.”

A peaceful smile lays along Dean's lips as Castiel puts him under. Without another word, the angel gets to work mending Dean's soul. The second he touches the dim spirit, he knows no amount of mending is going to heal Dean's mind. It's going to take time and a gentle hand to soothe the monsters raging in there. When he first healed Dean, he found the labyrinth of walls and vault in his mind fascinating. He was never able to fix them, nor was he able to find his way to the center where Dean locks himself away more often than not. This is something Dean had to fix. Back then, though, the damage wasn't half as bad as this.

Gabriel and Sam check in on Castiel a few minutes after he began his mending. When they find him staring in complete concentration at Dean, they take a seat on the floor and watch. Sam's never seen anything like this before, not that he can see much more than Cas staring. The sensation upon the air, though... it's unbelievable. There's a warmth layered with static and a heavy presence, a power drifting between Castiel and Dean. Sam finds himself holding his breath more than once.

Finally, Cas sighs and breaks his eye contact with Dean. He's finished, drained, and weary. Unable to help himself, he crosses his arms on Dean's bed and pillows his head with them. It isn't a couple seconds and he's asleep. Gabriel rises and lifts the younger angel into his arms, laying him in bed beside Dean. The hunter unconsciously turns into his angel's arms. The two are surprised when Castiel wraps his arms around Dean, yet say nothing about it. They exit the room, giving the two a bit of privacy.

The bunker is so quiet without Dean roaming about. It's painfully obvious to Sam that he would miss the constant chatter and blaring music, the dirty laundry and leftover food, and the sound of Dean clattering about the kitchen as he tries another culinary experiment. He could've lost all that forever, all because he wanted to push Dean away and have his own life. And really, how much of the time they worked together as 'partners' did he live his own life? The only difference between 'brothers' and 'partners' is the fact Sam refused to talk to Dean about more than the hunts. He gave him the cold shoulder all because he saved his life.

“You're thinking too much,” Gabriel comments from the kitchen counter.

“It's been three days, Gabe,” Sam sighs out. “Dean hasn't even left his bed. He won't let us in the room, Cas isn't telling us how he's doing, and I'm really starting to miss him. How much longer will this take?”

“Dean's really weak right now, Sammy,” the archangel informs. “His soul is mended, but his mind isn't. All those walls he built meticulously within his mind are rubble. He has to rebuild them from scratch, regather all those things he wanted to forget... it takes time. This is a lifetime or two of shit he wishes never happened to him, he's not going to lock them up in a day or two.”

“... But... why can't I see him?”

“... Sam, Dean's just... tired. Stress isn't going to do him any favors right now, it'll only slow the healing process. I hate to say this, but... lately all you've been is stress on him. Your rules, your pushing him away, it shattered him to a point that terrified him. The last thing he wants right now is to face the cause of his breakdown.”

Although it's said in a soft and soothing tone, it still feels like a stab to Sam's heart. He never meant for all this to happen, never meant for his brother to fall apart and suffer so badly. The taller male mopes at the table while Gabriel cooks lunch, golden eyes glancing over at him in worry. The other probably didn't even realize he was just as dependent on Dean as Dean was on him.

Castiel has been trying to get the brothers reunited since Dean awoke the second time, however the green-eyed man before him is less than compliant. He absolutely refuses to see Sam. The problem is, Cas can see that it isn't out of hate... it's out of fear. Fear that Sam won't want him around anymore, even as a partner, after seeing all the secrets he's been keeping. Fear that his younger brother will see him in a different light... as a monster. The rules were hard to deal with, difficult to follow, but the hunter did it if only to make Sam happy... to keep him near. Keep him where he can watch over him and protect him. Now it's all going to be for nothing. Sam knows... he knows everything... and Dean can't take that.

“He's worried about you, Dean,” Cas sighs out. “He's been asking about you, begging to see you. He doesn't see you as a monster, Dean, he sees you as his older brother. As the brother that needs him, that needs help. Can't you give him that? A chance to help you?”

“I can't, Cas,” Dean murmurs guiltily. “I don't want to go through that again. I haven't even managed to finish locking up my head, I don't want to chance him breaking all that progress down.”

“... I could just let him in anyway.”

“You won't. I know you won't,” Dean smirks in challenge. “You're too good a guy for an underhanded trick like that.”

Castiel hangs his head in defeat, knowing what Dean says is true. The green-eyed hunter has shifted his bond, he no longer lives for Sam... he lives for Sam _and_ Castiel. If Sam pushes him away again, he knows Cas will be there to welcome him without hesitation. Right now, the angel is all he needs. He doesn't judge the hunter, not even the first time he raised him from perdition. Castiel is ever understanding and patient with him, which Sam isn't. The taller Winchester has only gotten more and more impatient and easily irritated with him.

The angel reaches over and sets a hand on his wrist, checking his condition and banishing anything that could complicate Dean's status at the moment. The hunter is too weak to get up to use the bathroom, so Castiel continuously takes care of that. Slowly, he's been building Dean's muscles back up. He helps him eat what Gabriel fixes, listens to his rants when things get to be too much to bear, and keeps him looking as usual. Dean realizes that Castiel does a hell of a lot more for him than he would ever admit to... and all without complaint.

“... I really appreciate all this, you know,” he says quietly. “I don't think I ever told you that, but I really do. You're so good to me and I'm just a dick to you all the time... I don't deserve you. Not even as a friend.”

“You deserve more than you think,” he offers in response. “After all you've gone through, you deserve so much more.”

“... No... I really don't. You've always thought too highly of me.”

“Because what I see is so much different from what you believe.”

Dean lifts an arm and draws Cas closer to him, locking their lips in a chaste kiss. The angel places a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath his touch, and deepens the kiss. It's far too short, the blue-eyed man pulling back to gaze upon his hunter. Dean wants more, his libido is screaming for satisfaction. He grips the front of Castiel's shirt and tries to pull him onto the bed, but he's too weak right now. Frustration wells within his eyes and he growls in annoyance.

“I want to have sex with you,” he states up front. “Right now! Don't say I'm too weak, I swear I'll fucking scream!”

“... I don't think this is a good idea, we should wait.”

“Cas,” Dean comments through grit teeth. “I want it now. I'm not delusional, I'm not hard up, and I'm not under the influence of a near death experience. I just want to be with you. I can't move, I can't sit up, and I can't fucking stand it. Just, please, don't deny me this.”

“... Alright,” Cas sighs out. “But only if you bottom.”

Dean's eyes go wide at the comment, Castiel nearly smirking in triumph. He knows Dean is the stereotypical 'lady's man', there's no way he'll take it from a guy. The condition is set so it'll turn him off the idea of sex right now. The angel would much prefer they wait until he's all better... but Dean is ready _now_ and nothing will deter him. Steeling his expression with the same determination he tackles all 'save the world' situations, he nods his consent.

Castiel is thrown off a moment, yet gathers himself quickly. He promised Dean, condition or not, so he carefully starts to undress the hunter. His hands are soft and gentle along Dean's skin, drawing sharp breaths and quiet moans from him. The angel takes his time, laying kisses along the bared flesh as he goes. Dean watches, eyes glazed over with lust. His shirt is pushed up, the angel stopping to lave his tongue over his nipples. The hunter gasps and arches a bit, his skin flushing at the attention.

“Ah!” he gasps out. “Cas... Mm...”

“Patience, Dean,” Cas chuckles when his hips buck up. “It's a virtue, you know.”

“Fuck virtue.”

The angel hums in answer, a small smirk upon his lips. The only way Dean knows it's there, is because those lips are ghosting over his chest. Once he's completely naked, Castiel takes the time to undress himself as well. He crawls back over to Dean, laying between the hunter's legs languidly as he draws a finger along the erection there. He knows Dean keeps a bottle of lube in his bedside drawer, so he pulls it out and returns to his former position. He takes the hunter's rigid flesh into his mouth, distracting him as he coats his fingers in lube and presses the first to Dean's entrance.

Once the other is prepped enough, he slathers a good amount of lube on his own cock and positions himself at the other's entrance. He breaths in deep, sliding himself into Dean as the hunter sucks in a sharp breath. The sensation of being split in half never felt so good before. As soon as he starts moving as best he can, Castiel draws himself back and slides back in with a quick thrust. He nails Dean's prostate and the hunter cries out in ecstasy when the lightening shoots up his spine. The hands on his hips are strong, pulling him toward each thrust as Castiel creates a fast rhythm. The room is filled with the sound of slapping flesh and Dean's lecherous moans.

Somehow, Dean finds the strength to move his hands into Castiel's hair. He grips tight as the angel moves against him. Each thrust brings him closer to that delicious release, his head falling back against the pillows. Dean closes his eyes a moment, yet forces them open a second later. He wants to see this, wants to see Cas when he comes undone. Those blue eyes are watching him as intensely as they always do, pupils blown wide with lust and lids at half mast. His lashes are so thick as he gazes through them. Dean swallows thickly, the coil in his belly finally snapping at the sight. He arches off the mattress and his fluids stream out to coat his stomach. Castiel thrusts in a few more times before emptying himself within Dean's tight entrance, his hips continuing the motion in shallow movements as he rides out his orgasm.

“Mm... So good,” Dean breathes out sleepily. “Wanna do that again.”

Castiel smiles against his collarbone, carefully pulling out of the hunter. When he looks down at him, Dean is asleep. Cas cleans them up, returning to Dean's side to curl up with him. He may not need sleep, but he enjoys holding Dean during his. He breathes in the scent of sweat and sex, nuzzling Dean's hair contently. The hunter sighs in his sleep, snuggling closer to Castiel. His nightmares have died, long forgotten in the face of his angel's love, and he can now sleep soundly. Though Hell doesn't plague him in his dreams anymore, his arms are wound tight around Castiel's middle and Dean is far from ready to let go.


	9. Selfish Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean may have been saved, but he's far from healed. Being around Sam, however, isn't doing him any good. The loneliness and self hate is still eating Dean up, leaving him stranded in his dreams one more time. Castiel goes to him, noting the longing the hunter feels for a more meaningful bond than he already has with Sam and Cas. The angel gives him that bond, but it comes with a price. Cas is victim to his instincts and they demand Dean be safe... something he's not around Sam, in the angel's opinion.

Dean's progress has gone well in the last two days, the mental walls he's erected throughout his life now one huge vault. Though he's still searching for all the memories he needs to throw in there, he's gotten the majority. Cas is always with him, either watching over him or lying beside him, and Dean is ever aware of how attached he is to the angel. Today, however, he's regretting that attachment. Castiel is back on pressing Dean to see his brother. There's no reason to keep putting it off now, not when his mind is steeled and his body is able to stand on its own. Though he's been hiding in his room and making excuses to deny Sam's request, Dean knows today will be different. Cas has that look in his eye, that determined glint that rivals Dean's.

When Sam is told he can finally see his brother, Cas thinks he just might break into tears. The taller male hurries off to Dean's room, tailed by the two angels that have come to call this place home. Eventually, Gabriel just flies them to the door before Sam gets there. He never was one for needless exercise. Sam isn't far behind them, his long legs carrying him further than their own steps take them. He doesn't even stop to spare them a glance, barging into Dean's room to locate his brother.

“Dean!” he states before grabbing up his brother. “I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, I didn't know... This is all my fault! I... I wish I could take it all back. I didn't mean to hurt you so badly! Please, please... forgive me. Just throw out that damn rules list, you're my brother _and_ my hunting buddy. You always were and you always will be. I was an idiot to try and change that.”

“Calm down, Sam,” Dean murmurs in shock. “It wasn't your fault, okay? I don't blame you for all this, it was bound to happen.”

“But _I_ blame me,” the taller male says with tears in his eyes. “I know this was my fault, I pushed you away and caused all this.”

“Sam how can you even _look_ at me, let alone _touch_ me?” Dean frowns. “You know what I did! You know everything now! What I did, what I went through... fuck! I... I didn't want you to see all that... to know. I'm a monster, Sammy... I can't be around you anymore.”

The look on Sam's face is the equivalent to what he'd look like should Dean stab him in the gut. He looks absolutely devastated. The silence that follows that expression is maddening, the shorter male just waiting for the other to realize this is for the best. It doesn't happen, though. Instead, Sam bows his head and his hair shadows his eyes. The taller male trembles a moment, because of suppressed tears or suppressed rage Dean doesn't know... until he slaps him across the face.

“Seriously, Sammy! We have _got_ to talk about these bitch slaps!” Dean snaps. “I'm _definitely_ not digging them! Next time fucking punch me, because I...”

He's cut off when Sam's right hook nails his jaw, knocking him off balance. He stumbles back a couple steps, righting his center as one hand rubs at his sore jaw. Dean doesn't know whether to thank the other or hit him back. He doesn't get the chance to decide, as he's suddenly faced with a pissed off Sammy. Tears streak the other's cheeks as he glares down at his older brother, his lips pressed tight and his fists balling up as though to stave off his temper.

“How dare you!” Sam snaps. “All this time you've been suffering, I've been blaming myself! When you were insane I took care of you, watched out for you! When you were finally saved, I was consumed with guilt and worry. And now you decide to tell me you can't see me anymore? What the fuck do I look like, your girlfriend? One of your fucking one-night stands? A chick you decided to have a quick fling with? No! Dean, I'm your fucking _brother_! We're _family_ , damn it! You don't get to tell me to turn and walk away, not with all the shit we've been through together! I told you I was sorry for causing all this, okay? Stop acting like you're doing me a favor by leaving!”

“Sam, I just... It's different now...”

“The hell it is!” he shouts. “So you did some shit in Hell, who doesn't! I knew you tortured souls, Dean, I just didn't know you hurt _yourself_! I didn't know you committed suicide repeatedly in order to escape the torment. To tell you the truth, I think it was fucking brilliant. I would've done the same thing had I thought of it. Just promise me... you'll never do anything like that again, okay? Promise me that and we'll be good.”

“... I promise,” Dean murmurs quietly.

His green eyes are downcast, unwilling to look his brother in his eyes. He's disappointed in himself, it's easy enough for Sam to read, and the taller male draws him back into a hug. He pats his back and rubs it softly, kissing the top of Dean's head although the other protests. The protests are ignored, as usual, and Sam smothers him with affection Dean would normally run from. He can't run when Sam's got his arms around him that tight.

It doesn't end there, Sam is reluctant to let Dean out of his sight now that he's managed to see him again. He sits with his brother, follows him when he leaves the room, and hovers him when he's in the library. Now that he's better, he can move about freely... but Castiel still doesn't want him on hunts. He needs time to get back to a hundred percent, he can't do that while being threatened by another target. As such, Sam has a lot of time to hover.

It grates on the green-eyed male's nerves, however he can't say anything on it. He was an asshole keeping Sam away from him, especially seeing the sad and guilty puppy look hazel eyes send him now. He realizes that Sam had a point before, about him making choices on the taller man's life without discussing it. He did that when he ignored the warning signs leading to his breakdown, when he drugged Sam and ran off to save him the trouble of watching Dean, and now when he decided to leave. He makes a mental note to stop doing that, to try and remember that Sam has a say as well and they need to face things together instead of apart... being apart is what got him in this mess.

“I'm tired,” Dean sighs out.

“Tired how?” Sam immediately wonders. “Tired like 'sick of the world', or tired like you just need a nap? Are you feeling okay? Your head's still on straight, right?”

“If you don't calm the fuck down, I'm gonna hit you,” Dean remarks. “I'm just tired, okay? There's no special meaning. I'm still fixing my noggin, it's tiring. I probably just need to rest for a bit, that's all.”

“Gabriel and Cas are still in Heaven, they probably won't be back for a while yet,” the taller murmurs a bit embarrassed. “Why don't you lay down on the couch and nap.”

“I can make it to my room you know.”

“I know, but... I'd feel better if I could watch over you,” Sam comments offhandedly.

With a sigh of relent, Dean vacates his wooden chair and lays down on the leather couch. He had no clue just how tired he was, but the minute he closes his eyes... he's out like a light. Sam watches as he slips beneath the spell of sleep. For just a moment, that sinking feeling he had before returns. If Dean didn't make it through all that insanity, he wouldn't be watching him sleep right now. He would be alone and berating himself for killing his brother, drowning in alcohol and tears. No doubt even Gabriel would give up on him and leave him to his depression. His only consolation is that Cas would likely stick around, as Sam is the last connection he would've had with Dean... unless he blamed the younger Winchester for Dean's untimely death.

That sick feeling nearly overcomes him, however he reminds himself that his brother is still alive. He's alive and breathing right there before him. When Castiel and Gabriel return, Sam is still gazing upon his slumbering brother. He's lost track of time, not knowing just how important it is to keep track of how long Dean naps. Castiel reaches out to Dean, shaking his shoulder gently. When that doesn't wake him, he hardens the motion. Still no response.

“Sam, how long has he been asleep?” Gabriel frowns.

“I... I'm not sure,” the taller male answers. “He looked really tired, I told him to take a nap... I didn't know I was supposed to wake him. Is he gonna be okay?”

“I'm sure it's fine,” the trickster murmurs. “Cas can take care of him. It's probably just his body catching up on much needed sleep.”

Castiel presses two fingers to Dean's forehead and closes his eyes. There's a lull in the pulse of his spirit, that inner light that's usually so very strong and bright, and it bothers him. It's been there since he started sleepwalking. Carefully, he reaches his Grace out toward it. When he connects to that lull, a flash of panic and fear buzz along the connection... and an overwhelming loneliness. Dean's heart aches for a bond deeper than he has with his brother... deeper than he has with Cas. The angel sighs and glances toward Gabriel. Understanding the silent request, he pulls Sam to his feet and leads him away.

Once they're gone, Castiel heads into Dean's dream. This time it isn't dark and bloody, but bright and sunny. They're in a clearing near a lake, the same lake Dean fished at in one of his dreams the angel visited. Dean isn't fishing this time, but sitting on the dock with his feet in the water... and his green eyes staring at his own reflection. Cas sits beside him, though doesn't dip his feet in the cool liquid.

“Dean, you're not waking up,” he comments. “Is something wrong?”

“... I like it here,” he murmurs. “It's quiet and peaceful.”

“You can't stay here, Dean,” the angel informs. “You need to wake up soon, your spirit is beginning to lull. That small break in energy will grow and eventually it won't be strong enough to cling to your vessel.”

“I don't want to wake up, I like it here.”

Cas sigh and watches the sulking hunter. There's something about his expression, so longing and sad, that pulls at Castiel's heartstrings. He resists the urge to wrap an arm around Dean's shoulders, knowing the action would only anger him. Instead, he sighs and looks out over the waters. He needs to bring up something very important, however he's not sure the hunter will respond well to the topic. Pushing on, heedless of the consequences, Castiel parts his lips to speak.

“Dean, I can feel your desire for a closer bond than that which we've already created,” he comments. “You wish to have a relationship that will last throughout all eternity, don't you? Something akin to a human marriage... but one that will never end. I can give you that.”

“Cas, I don't want your pity,” Dean glares.

“When have I _ever_ shown you pity?” the angel gasps indignantly. “When have I ever reacted to you with anything less than the truth? Dean, I do _not_ pity you. I love you, I admire you, I might even covet you at times... but I _never_ pity you!”

“... I know, I'm sorry,” the hunter sighs. “It's just... Why would you want to be with me like that? I'm nothing special, I'm always in trouble, and I can't seem to be anything more than a complete asshole. I don't deserve you.”

“I don't care. I love you, Dean Winchester,” Cas smiles. “I would let the world burn for you. If you need an eternal bond, I would be more than happy to provide it. I don't want to share you with anyone, Dean, and I certainly don't want anyone to take you from me. Call me selfish, but I want to keep you forever.”

The hunter brightens a bit at that, a large grin breaking out on his face. He falls into a hug with his angel, face buried in Castiel's shoulder. The angel takes that as a 'yes' and wraps the other in the warmth of his Grace. It tingles along Dean's skin, soaking into his soul and binding them as mates. He hears a content sigh from the hunter as he relaxes in his grasp. This is a moment Cas has wanted for a long time, though the urge always rested in the back of his mind. Now that it's finally come to be, his heart feels like it's going to burst from his chest. It's the most painful type of happiness he's ever been victim to, but it's a wonderful feeling all the same. To know that this powerful and righteous man now belongs to him, that Dean Winchester's pure and endeavoring soul is now in his hands completely... it's overwhelming. This once unbreakable man will never be broken again, he'll make sure of that.

Sam glares at Gabriel in the kitchen, unable to understand why he won't let him around Dean right now. The trickster never really explains anything, he just does it and you have to go along with it... or end up with a serious headache later after trying to figure out the logic he's using. Sam's almost positive the word 'logic' has absolutely no place in Gabriel's vocabulary.

“Don't look at me that way,” the archangel sighs out at the stove. “Cas needs some time with Dean. It's not the sort of time we want to be present for.”

“He's not gonna molest my brother in his sleep, is he?” Sam frowns.

“Of course not, Cassy has more class than me... uh... I mean 'that',” Gabriel corrects quickly.

“Mm-hm,” Sam hums derisively.

The trickster blushes and ducks his head a bit, deciding to work on dinner for the hunters. When Castiel walks in without Dean, however, the two can't help the questioning stares. The younger angel takes a seat and gets comfortable before looking up. He doesn't seem ready to say anything, however Sam needs to know his brother is going to be okay. He can't risk losing him after going through all that hell to make sure he didn't.

“How is he? Did he wake?”

“... He doesn't want to wake,” Castiel sighs. “I told him he could sleep for five more minutes, but after that I'm going to force him up. He can't sleep longer than that, or his soul will be too dormant to stay within his vessel.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam snaps. “What else do I have to know about all this? What else is going to kill him?”

“I'm sorry, Sam, but this is a very fragile time. His inner vault may have been rebuilt, but he's not yet cleansed his mind of all that darkness. As long as it lingers within his soul, there's threat of regression. He's working as fast as possible, but right now he needs peace and calm. Within his dreams he finds that. It's just very difficult for him to let it go once he's grasped it.”

There isn't much Sam can say to that, knowing that his brother probably needs the sleep anyway. It still hurts to hear it, though. As if he only makes his brother stressed and anxious. It's not that he means to, but he's so worried about all that progress falling apart. With a deep breath, his gaze turns to the table. The sounds of pots and pans clanking about as Gabriel gets everything ready fills the air, the trickster mumbling to himself as he moves about the kitchen. Dean always keeps the kitchen set up just right, so it's easy to find everything needed. Sam has no illusions of Gabriel keeping things the way Dean likes them, though. In fact, he'll probably change things around to piss him off.

About five minutes later, Cas stands and heads back to the library. He rouses Dean, who only makes a bit of a fuss, and then they both return to the kitchen. By then, Gabriel's Chicken Alfredo dish is finished. He's setting up a few plates, watching from the corner of his eye as Dean sits across from Sam. Once more the taller male is watching him, nearly unblinking as he soaks up the sight of his older brother.

“Sammy, seriously,” Dean gripes. “Enough with the fucking staring, okay? I'm here, I'm still alive, I don't need you watching me twenty-four seven.”

“Sorry, I just... I don't know what I would've done if you had died,” he admits sheepishly.

“I do. You would've been fine. You would've moved on with your life, given up hunting, found a nice chick to settle down with... probably had a few brats,” Dean waves off. “You would've been happy... You should've let me die. Hell, you should've killed me yourself!”

There's a long silence that stretches on, three people staring in shock at Dean's remark. He doesn't even realize what's slipped from his lips, already digging into the plate set before him. Dean doesn't really understand the silence, so he ignores it. Instead, he focuses on eating. The smell is divine and the taste is exquisite. Sam is the first to shake himself from his stupor, sending a glare toward Castiel.

“... I thought you said his head was on straight,” Sam growls out. “That doesn't sound like it.”

“I apologize,” he comments. “Apparently, it takes a little while for the suicidal remarks to dissipate. I'm sure he'll be fine in a day or two.”

“I hope so.”

“You have to remember, Sam, no other soul has made it this far in the healing process,” Gabriel points out quietly. “Dean is venturing into unknown territory. This could be a permanent fix, or a temporary one. This could be the end, or just the beginning. We won't know until it happens, okay?”

“No, it's _not_ okay!” Sam snaps. “I want my brother back! I don't want to have to worry about him _offing_ himself because of a sudden depression! I don't want to find his dead body during a hunt because it seemed the best idea to just lay down and _die_! This is _not_ okay! _He's_ not okay!”

Dean sighs and puts down his fork, standing up from the table and walking away. Sam's hand immediately covers his mouth in surprise at his outburst. This is going to take some serious getting used to, he knew that, but it seems like he just keeps sticking his foot in his mouth. Before he can get up to follow his brother, Cas disappears through the doorway. The taller male drops to the table in defeat. Perhaps Dean really would be better off without him. No matter how much they try to protect each other, they only end up hurting the other in the end.

Cas finds his new mate in the garage, sitting behind the wheel of his Impala. His jaw is tight and his body is tense. The angel slides into the passenger seat, blue eyes gazing out of the windshield quietly. It doesn't take a mastermind to know Sam's comments hurt Dean. Everything within the hunter screams for him to run, to get away from the threat and just keep going... however, he can't leave Sam like that. He never could.

“He's just worried,” Cas offers.

“... Yeah... I know...”

“I know you didn't mean what you said, Dean,” the angel states. “Unlike me, however, Sam can't see into your soul. He can't see the darkness that still lingers there.”

“I don't know how to get rid of it all,” Dean sighs. “It's just taking too long!”

“It will, that's a lifetime of abuse within your soul. It took you a long time to lock it away the first time, you won't get it done in a couple days. You have made extremely good progress, though. I'm proud of you.”

The tension within his body melts at the admission, a slight smile flickering upon Dean's lips. Green pools glance Castiel's way, and then Dean turns to pull the angel into a kiss. This is his safe haven, his saving grace, and he knows he'll never let it go. The kiss is chaste and the two pull away before it can get more heated. Now that he's calmer and thinking more clearly, Dean opens the driver side door and gets out of the car. He opens the door for Cas as well, smirking at the angel with the small action of chivalry. Together they head back into the bunker, but are confronted with Sam and Gabriel at the doorway.

“I am _so_ sorry, Dean,” Sam blurts out. “That was uncalled for and I never meant to say it, I just... I don't like hearing you talk like that. It's not _you_. It's like... like I'm hearing your inner demon talking instead. It scares me.”

“It's fine, Sam,” the shorter hunter sighs. “I didn't mean to say that either, it just sort of slipped out. I honestly didn't even realize I said it. I'm working on clearing that shit out of my soul, but it's hard. No matter how much I catch, it's like the rest seems to spread thinner. Don't worry, though, I'm on it. I'll get it done.”

“Just... don't do anything stupid.”

“You know me,” Dean grins cockily.

“Yeah, I do... that's why I said it.”

The tone is firm and serious, killing Dean's joking vibe, and the shorter male drops his smirk into a more reassuring expression. He pats Sam on the shoulder, the closest thing to a promise he can get right now, and then passes him by. He needs a shower before bed and he doesn't want Sam crowding him while he tries to clean up.

Come to find out, the green-eyed male didn't have to worry about Sam crowding him... he had to worry about Cas. The angel not only followed him to the showers, but now watches his every move with a predatory gaze. It's beginning to affect Dean in all sorts of ways. Not only does it turn him on, but it sort of creeps him out. He feels like a rabbit being watched by a wolf. As eager as his body is to be jumped by his new mate, Dean is just too tired. His mind is taxed and his eyes can barely stay open. That's probably the only thing that keeps Cas from dropping him right there beneath the spray of water.

“Cas, can you please stop watching me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you're about to eat me alive! Come on, man, I'm going through some seriously mixed emotions from that look. It's not helping my current situation out any.”

“... I apologize, but you're very tantalizing when naked.”

Dean snorts at the comment, chuckling to himself. It's said so innocently, as though he should already know all this. Although Castiel doesn't understand the humor in his statement, he's glad to see Dean smile again. The steam from the water is blanketing the floor like a fog, yet hides nothing from blue eyes, and the warmth is clinging to everything. Dean hums in content at the heat, muscles loosening beneath the waters and tension washing down the drain.

“Dean, do you think me selfish?” Cas wonders suddenly. “To want to keep you to myself?”

“No, that's usually how someone feels when they're in love.”

“... I don't know,” the angel says uncertainly. “I worry for you. Sam hurt you very badly and you're still capable of unraveling with the slightest problem... I want to take you away from here until you're better. Lock you away and care for you. I know I shouldn't, that it would be wrong of me, but... I want to.”

“I'll be okay, Cas,” Dean assures. “I understand why you think that way, I thought the same way about Sam for a long while... sometimes I still do. But... Life is complicated and shit happens. If I don't live through it, I'll never learn. At least I have you to back me up now.”

“... You always did,” Cas says quietly.

Dean frowns at the sad look in those blue orbs, sighing to himself before inviting the angel into the shower with him. Hesitantly, Castiel sheds his clothing and steps into hot water. It isn't a session of wild sex, but an intimate moment between the two. They stand and wash one another, pulling each other into their arms languidly and passing soft kisses. It's something Dean's never done before, yet finds he could get used to.

The angel is confused, though, and fights internally with the instincts that demand satisfaction. Dean is in danger here in the bunker, especially with Sam hurting him... even on accident. Each time the shorter hunter is subjected to hurtful comments like that, anything that might touch the vulnerable part of his soul that depends on Sam, it sets his progress back. Something escapes from his vault and rejoins the mass of dark still wriggling within his bright soul. In any other situation, an angel would take their mate to a secluded area and build a nest for them. They wouldn't allow their mate to leave until the threat has passed or their health returns to them. He makes a decision he hopes won't lead to Dean hating him in the end. They finish their shower and dry off, Cas dressing in his suit and Dean dressing in some sleeping pants. Afterward, they head into the bedroom and Dean curls up on his bed. Even though the hunter had napped not long ago, his body and mind are still exhausted. He falls asleep quickly... and that's when Castiel takes him away from the bunker.


	10. Paradise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wakes to find himself miles away from the bunker. Cas has built him a nest away from society, hoping to give him time to heal without interruptions or fear of regression. To say the hunter is miffed is putting it mildly. Unable to return home, he tries to make a life for himself on the island.

When Dean wakes, it's not to the room he claimed as his own. Panic sets in, the hunter afraid he's trapped in another nightmare. But how could this be a nightmare? The room is beautiful and comfortable, furnished in whites and blacks. The bed he's lying on is feather-down and cushy, an old-fashioned sled style, and the thick curtains are pulled shut. The walls look as though he's in a log cabin, which is odd as he doesn't remember going to one. For a moment his heart skips a beat and he wonders if he didn't sleepwalk to one. Then again, there are no log cabins around the bunker and there's no way he slept through a mile long hike.

“Sam?” he calls out. “Sammy? You here?”

“He's not, but I am,” Castiel offers quietly.

Dean missed the rustle of feathers, so the voice surprises him. Green eyes are large as they dart to the angel, who looks for all the world like he did something shameful. Guilt can rarely be found in his blue orbs, but right now Dean can see a whole ocean of it. His brows dip in wary confusion, gaze darting around the room once more. He doesn't have to ask for Castiel to give him answers, the angel's guilt pushes them from his mouth.

“I'm sorry, I just... I couldn't let you get hurt again,” he says softly. “Sam was hurting you and setting your healing back without even knowing it. I knew, though, I could see it. I had to get you somewhere that no one could hurt you, Dean. Please understand, I only want to help you get better. You can't do that if you keep running into judgment and anger. Sam is frustrated and it's coming out as a lashing toward you.”

“Whoa, calm down,” Dean says firmly. “What are you talking about, Cas?”

“... When an angel's mate is ill or hurt, their first instinct is to separate them from the masses,” Cas explains as best he can. “They build a nest in a secluded area, making sure no one and nothing can reach their mate, and then they care for them until they're better. This is the nest I built for you, Dean. You can stay here and heal. When you're all better and the darkness is locked away once more, I'll take you back to the bunker and you can start hunting with Sam again.”

“Dude, are you serious?” the hunter states in disbelief. “You _kidnapped_ me? Cas, I'm doing fine. Sam isn't hurting me, he's gonna be worried as all hell. You have to take me back.”

“Gabriel knew I'd do this, Dean,” Cas murmurs guiltily. “He'll take care of Sam and explain everything to him. There's a phone in the other room, so you can call Sam... your cellphone won't get reception here.”

“... Where the hell is 'here'?”

“Pitcairn Island,” Castiel answers. “It's somewhere near the center of the South Pacific. I've built the nest away from the tiny town here, but if you'd like to visit it I don't mind taking you. For now, however, I would prefer you stay put. There are only around fifty or so citizens here anyway, their town is a port town.”

“I can just take a boat out of here.”

“Only the occasional ship passes through, this place is very remote. I'm sorry about this, Dean, but I can't have you in danger while healing.”

Dean opens his mouth to argue, however the angel is gone in half a second. Instead, he growls out his frustration and kicks the bed post... which sends pain through his stubbed toe and a curse from between his lips. After hopping about a moment in pain, Dean stalks out of the bedroom to survey the house. It's a nice place, roomy enough with a stocked kitchen and all the modern appliances needed, but it isn't the bunker. His chest feels empty at the thought, green orbs straying to the phone on the glass top coffee table.

The hunter sits down on the leather sectional and lifts the receiver from the cradle. It's been forever since he's used a land line. With only a slight hesitance, Dean's fingers roam over the buttons... and then dials Sam's most recent phone number. It rings for a short while, the older Winchester hoping Castiel wasn't lying when he said he'd be able to reach his brother. Just when he's afraid the other won't pick up, or maybe changed his number, the dial tone ends.

“Hello?” Sam greets in question.

“Sam? Sam!” Dean states excitedly.

“Dean, where the hell are you? I've called to Cas, but he's not answering and...”

“He kidnapped me! Cas freaking kidnapped me! Can you fucking believe it?”

Sam nearly drops his phone in disbelief, alerting the archangel loitering around him to his turmoil. Gabriel, never one to miss out on chaotic emotions, listens in on the phone call eagerly. He can already make out Dean's irritated voice ranting on Castiel's annoying habits. It occurred to the trickster that Cas might do this, however he didn't find it necessary to alert the boys to this unfortunate side effect to angel instinct.

“Why the hell did he take you away? The bunker is the safest place for you right now, you should be _here_!”

“Tell me about it! I told him that, too, but he insists that you're dangerous to me.”

“I'm what? How could he say that?” Sam wonders a bit hurt. “You know what, never mind. Where are you? I'm coming to get you, Dean, okay?”

“No you aren't,” Gabriel remarks calmly. “Put him on speaker, I have something you both need to know... and I don't like to repeat myself.”

The tone is serious and so unlike the trickster that Sam is shocked. Mouth slightly open, the dumbstruck hunter presses the speaker button and sets his phone on the table between them. Dean can tell the difference immediately, brows dipping in confusion as he sinks down onto the leather sectional. After a short moment of gathering his thoughts, Gabriel takes in a breath and eyes Sam instead of the phone.

“Castiel is a young angel,” he informs. “Therefore he's more apt to fall beneath our instinctual mannerisms than those older than him. I, for instance, have built up an immunity to the call of instinct. Right now, he sees Dean as his mate and will treat him as any other young angel will treat their mates. It doesn't matter that he's a human and not an angel.”

“So... when an angel is ill they get kidnapped?” Sam scoffs out.

“No, Sam, that's not what's going on here. Dean is a submissive in Castiel's eyes, so he feels the need to shelter him and care for him,” Gabriel explains. “When a submissive is ill, the alpha builds a nest away from anything that can be considered a threat. It's normally in a place that sets a soothing vibe, or a person can easily relax in... perhaps a forest, lake, or even on a beach. Right now, Dean is safest with Castiel. Wherever he is, Cassy has deemed it safe and will continue to search it for threat. His recuperation time will triple should he stay beneath the watchful eye of an alpha angel, especially if they're treating him like a mate. Castiel will be extremely possessive and overprotective of Dean, nothing will come within fifty feet of him.”

“But I want to come home!” Dean shouts on the other end of the line.

“... Maybe Gabriel's right, Dean,” Sam frowns. “I mean... I've seen Cas when he's just protecting himself and he's pretty bad ass. If he's protecting someone he loves... You should stay there for now. Obviously, he's allowing you to call me... Just hang tight. It can't take that long to get healed up, right?”

There's a reluctant sound of agreement from Dean, and then he's distracted by a noise outside. The call is ended with a promise to call back later. Once he hangs up, the green-eyed male slowly heads for the front door. It opens up to a wrap around porch that has a bench swing and a coffee table. Outside his cabin is a couple women and a small group of men. At the sight of him, they wave and head closer to the porch.

Dean isn't sure he can trust these people, however Castiel hasn't suddenly shown up to smite them... so he'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Inside the house, he hears the sound of wings beating the air. He knows the angel has returned. Cas steps up behind him, dressed in a tee shirt and jeans this time. Obviously, he's learned the importance of blending in.

“Hello,” Castiel greets. “How may we help you?”

“We heard there was a new couple living over here,” a dark haired woman states. “We just wanted to welcome you to the island. We all brought a dish... didn't know you were both men. Not that is matters, of course... I just would've made more than just pie...”

“Pie?” Dean wonders eagerly. “I love pie!”

Castiel watches carefully as the hunter steps off the porch to greet the island's inhabitants. None of them are possessed or happen to have supernatural blood, they're just humans and pose little threat to his ailing mate. As such, he allows the interaction. The people here are nice and helpful, offering Dean a job on one of the small fishing boats... likely nothing more than a canoe or rowboat, nothing that can make a trip across the ocean. By the time they leave, the hunter has three different flavors of pie, a pan of casserole, and a few plates of cookies and brownies. He's the happiest junk-food junkie on the island.

Back inside the cabin, the two put away the food... all but the pie. Dean grabs a fork and digs into each for a tasting. The angel is quiet as he watches the other, the hunter seated on the bar stool at the island counter-top. He doesn't seem to pay the other any mind, the pie distracting him and greatly improving his mood.

“Dean... are you still angry with me?” Castiel asks almost timidly.

“... No,” he sighs out after a moment's pause. “I don't really have any room to talk when I do this to Sam all the time. I'd be a hypocrite if I couldn't take what I dish out. Besides, Gabriel says this is going to be good for me. And it might be nice to be a fisherman for once... get away from the 'family business' and try something new. I've always wanted to be a fisherman.”

“The island is safe, Dean, but there can still be creatures in the waters,” Cas warns. “I'll always be watching you... just remember that you're supposed to be healing. Any threats will be handled by me and only me. Spend you energy on recuperating, nothing more. Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he waves off. “Now sit down. All that hovering is making me nervous.”

After Dean finishes off one of his pies, the hunter returns to looking around the cabin. As before, he notes how spacious it is. The kitchen, living room, and dining room are connected. The later is just a few stools along the counter in the kitchen. There's one bedroom with a walk-in closet filled with clothes, a bathroom with both a shower and a jacuzzi bathtub, and a laundry room he probably won't need with Castiel around. The angel seems intent on taking care of everything for his mate; including laundry, cleaning, and cooking.

Out back is a good sized garden, just for something soothing for Dean to do. There's a small shed filled with gardening tools, a gazebo, and a small pool in case the hunter is too lazy to go down to the ocean to swim. Castiel thought the pool would be safer anyway, considering a merman or kappa can't live in its depths. All in all, Dean can't think of a more relaxing vacation home than this. Just looking out the window has him breathing deep in tranquility.

He heads back toward the bathroom, jumping into the shower after shedding his clothes and turning on the hot water. It's glorious against his skin, the warmth soothing his tense muscles. In Dean's mind, he wonders how Sam is doing... and then has a flash of Gabriel and his brother on the kitchen table. He swallows the rising bile, banishing the vision from his head immediately. If anything, the trickster will find ways of keeping his younger brother occupied.

“Dean?” Cas calls through the door. “I'm going to leave now, I have to check the perimeter of the island for threats. If you need me to take you anywhere, just call me. I'll always be listening for you. Try not to wander off on your own, all right? Those people had automobiles to bring them here, they're much further away than you think. Don't try to walk to them.”

“... I want to go into town after my shower,” Dean decides. “Can you wait a minute?”

“Of course.”

He hears the other walking away from the door, and then continues with his shower. When he's finished, steam clinging to his skin lovingly, Dean wraps a towel around his waist. He quietly heads into the bedroom, noting how Castiel's eyes linger upon his form heatedly. Although he'd love a quick romp with his mate, Dean's still upset about his abduction. He'll play hard to get for a while longer.

Once he's dressed in his usual outfit, plus a flannel button up shirt, he meets Castiel in the living room. Though he was watching for Dean when he left the bathroom, liking eager to catch a glimpse of skin, his gaze is no longer directed toward the short hall. When Dean stops before him, he stands up and reaches for the hunter. The hand on the green-eyed man's shoulder is warm and comforting, belying the violence it's capable of. They're gone in an instant, the angel dropping Dean off just outside of town.

The place is small and looks very rustic, but it's filled with a family vibe Dean likes. It's a tourist place, those here enjoying a nice vacation until their ship comes back to pick them up. Dean wonders why they would come here. There's a fish market, a small restaurant, and many little shops. Back a short way, he can see houses erected in small groups. As little as this place is, it's also flourishing in its own way.

“Dean?” a man questions. “You're Dean Winchester, right? I was told to watch for you.”

“Uh... yeah? And you're..?”

“Harry,” the guy grins as he holds out a hand. “I'm one of the fishermen here.”

“Oh! Great!” Dean states, shaking the offered hand. “I just came in to look around, get a feel for the place. I really don't have much else to do, my... uh... my friend is dealing with the cabin.”

“You mean you're partner?” Harry wonders slyly. “Don't worry, we don't judge here. So, are you the breadwinner, or is he?”

Dean blushes at the way the other says it. He has never really thought about who would be the one on top, who would be considered the breadwinner, or anything along the lines of status. Obviously, Dean is the submissive. Well... according to Gabriel and Castiel anyway. This is the modern day, though, and even the women... or 'submissive partner'... can be the breadwinner. Dean works, but isn't paid for it. Besides, Castiel has the power to deal with everything in the blink of an eye. That might make him the breadwinner. Dean decides as long as he's with Cas, he's more like a bored rich kid. He has no need to work with his angelic mate, he's just unable to sit still.

“Uh... I guess he is,” Dean murmurs uncertainly. “I just have trouble sitting still... I like to be on the move a lot. You know how it is... bored easily and shit.”

“Ah, makes sense. I heard from Tom that your partner was watching the welcome committee like a hawk,” the other man chuckles. “I'm still getting ready to head out, so why don't you go into town and look around a bit? I'll wait until you get back... today isn't a busy day, anyhow.”

“Hey, thanks a lot!” Dean smiles. “I won't take long, I promise.”

With a wave to Harry, the hunter hurries off into the town. The roads are dirt, the cars older models, and everywhere he looks he can see people sitting on sidewalks and porches. The older people are in rocking chairs, pipes between their lips and bottles of beer on the stands beside them. It's almost surreal, like he's watching an old time movie or something. After checking around, he makes his way back to the docks and the older man waiting for him.

Harry is a man in his mid-forties, his hair a light brown and his eyes a chocolate color. He's muscular from years of throwing nets and fighting with fish, hard labor and farming, and Dean can appreciate the rough life he probably lived. The boat is old, but very sturdy. It's a fishing boat, so it's rather big, but isn't made for long ocean trips. There are two fishing poles on it's deck, a few large nets, some cages for catching lobster or crab, and large bins to keep the fish alive until they return to the island. As they get settled and Harry starts up the boat, Dean can't help but think back on Castiel's warning.

“Hey, Harry! My family's pretty big on mythology and shit... are there any strange myths about this place?” he wonders over the roar of the engine.

“Well... I heard of a few mermaid tales,” he comments. “And maybe a serpent or two. Not much goes on here, it's pretty quiet.”

Dean understands that this is likely why Castiel chose this spot... a lack of supernatural activity. It's a small favor, however irritated that makes the hunter. He was raised to do a single job and right now he finds he just can't do it. Green eyes look out over the clear waters of the ocean, a soothing sight no matter how annoying the lack of jobs is. For once, Dean lets himself enjoy his downtime.

At noon, he's still watching the end of his line. They've caught a good amount of fish, though Harry has stated that he normally catches three times as much on a busier day. He would normally use nets, but today is slow and they could take their time. There's a nibble on his hook, the line pulling out inch by inch, and then Dean starts reeling it in. This fish is bigger than the last, _much_ bigger, and he has to get Harry to help him out.

“Shit, this bitch is huge,” Dean gasps out.

“Maybe we should cut it loose,” Harry comments uneasily. “It might not fit in the boat.”

“One more thing I should probably tell you,” Dean states through gritted teeth. “I'm not the type to pass up a good challenge. This? Challenge accepted!”

Harry laughs and helps Dean pull the rod. Just as they're pulling something to the surface, a large tail slams up against the boat. It's a violent act, shaking the boat and knocking the two forward. Dean nearly goes over the side, but Harry's quick to grab hold of his belt. Only a foot or two from the liquid surface, green eyes lock with blue. They're human and the creature on the end of his hook is a mermaid. She watches him with an apt fascination, long red locks billowing out around her within the waters. The hook is caught in her hair, so Dean quickly dips his hands in and gets it loose.

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs.

Before he can say anything more, Harry regains his balance and pulls the hunter back into the boat. They sit within the middle of the vessel, the two gasping for breath after the fight. There's a splash in the waters, a small black pearl shooting up from the waters to land beside Dean. It rolls over to his leg and comes to a stop. Harry is surprised at the little bobble, looking to the green-eyed male a bit stunned.

“Where the hell did that come from?”

“... I don't know,” Dean lies.

“Yeah, right, and I'm the fucking lord of the ocean,” Harry snorts derisively. “Boy, you ain't pulling nothing over my eyes! I'm a fisherman, we're as superstitious as sailors. Now, what the hell happened!”

For a short moment, Dean is tempted to lie again. He's hunted the 'things that go bump in the night' all his life, he's aware that no one believes in them anymore. As many times as Dean's been forced to reveal that monsters are real to victims, as many times as he's had to explain all this to people he needs to protect, it never erases the disbelieving looks. The last thing he needs is to be marked the island nut-job on his first day there. Harry, though, he seems honestly excited about all this. It occurs to Dean that perhaps he's come across supernatural monsters of the ocean before. Those that make their living off the ocean seem to be easier to convince. Dean takes that leap of faith.

“... I think I saw a mermaid.”

“Yeah? What'd she look like? Was she pretty?”

“She was cute,” Dean nods in thought. “Red hair, blue eyes. My hook got caught in her hair, so I untangled it for her. I told her I was sorry... I guess the pearl is to say 'no hard feelings'. At least, I _hope_ that's what it's for.”

“Maybe she's hot for you,” Harry jokes.

“God I hope not, I think Cas is the jealous type,” Dean laughs in return.

That's about the time they decide to call it a day, turning the boat around and heading back. As Dean glances back, he catches sight of the redheaded mermaid peeking above the surface. He gives a small wave in farewell, turning his gaze back to the island. When they reach the docks, Dean jumps out and ties down the first of the ropes. Harry follows, checking the hunter's work a bit impressed and taking care of the other rope. The green-eyed male gets back in the boat to start passing the fish to Harry.

They need to take their catch to the market in town, where they'll sell it to the townsfolk and visitors. They work quietly, joking every now and then, and soon are taking their catch into town. Harry's stall is the same as always, but they're the first ones there today. Normally, he's one of the last to come in. The older man likes wasting time out on the waters and stays out there as long as possible. Upon arriving, Dean notes eyes upon his back and turns to see Castiel.

“Cas!” he greets happily.

“Dean, how was your trip?”

“Awesome! Look how much we caught!” he grins. “I was born to fish, man!”

The angel wanders over, gazing upon the many fish. He seems distracted by something, however Dean isn't going to press what's bothering him in public. Whatever it is, it's likely supernatural. Castiel lingers to watch the two set up, surprised when customers begin hurrying over to buy fish for dinner. Dean is ready to leave, though, he's had enough excitement for now. As he wanders off, calling over his shoulder to Harry, the older fisherman stops him.

“I'll set aside your half of the profits!” he states. “You can pick it up tomorrow.”

“Nah, man, that's cool,” Dean waves off. “You keep it, you need it more. Besides, I enjoyed myself out there. I'm all set, I'm just glad you let me go with you.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, dude, I'm positive. Go buy a new boat or something.”

Harry laughs it off, thanking the hunter as Dean walks off with Castiel. They go by foot until they're out of town, and then the angel grips Dean to transport him to the cabin. The place is quiet and still, something Dean isn't yet used to. When he walks inside, lunch is already sitting on the kitchen counter waiting for him. It's a cheeseburger and fries, a bottle of beer next to it, and Dean realizes just how well Castiel knows him.

He sits down to eat, noting how his mate sits across from him. It doesn't take the hunter much to know he's waiting. Uncertain if he's going to tell him something good or bad, Dean takes his time and tries to push down his nerves. Once he's finished, green eyes slide over to blue in question.

“What happened out there today?” Cas inquires calmly.

“We went fishing,” Dean shrugs. “I hooked something big, thought it was a fish... it turned out to be a mermaid. I untangled the hook from her hair and told her I was sorry. It was no big deal, Cas.”

Dean watches as emotions flow through blue eyes. He never really thought Cas would have so many insecurities when it comes to keeping a mate. The bond between them is powerful and deep, yet Dean is beginning to wonder if it's going to be enough. He loves Castiel, he knows he does, but he's only human. The bond between an angel and their mate means more to Cas than it does to the hunter. As he watches his partner, which is all he can think of Cas as, he realizes why the angel may think he has reason to worry. Dean has a rather lustful reputation, something he used to be rather proud of. Now it all just seems like a waste of time, especially when Cas was right there in front of him.


	11. Dean's New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is beginning to like the perks of a normal life. Without having to watch his back constantly and spend the majority of his time on jobs, he's finding his free time is far better spent. Lazing about the island has little appeal to him, so he spends his days with Harry. During an oyster dive in the cove, Dean finds himself with a new friend.

The bed is comfortable... so very comfortable. As Dean lies there, watching Castiel move around the room, he relishes the feeling of the mattress. It's like laying on a cloud, caressing his body perfectly. When Castiel sheds the tee shirt and jeans he's wearing, the hunter licks his lips. He reaches for the other, eager and already half hard. Green eyes study the muscles moving beneath Castiel's skin, every movement sending them sliding beneath the flesh. The hunter is already in nothing but his boxers, ready to be taken by his lover.

Their lips collide, Cas leaning over Dean as they kiss. Dean slowly settles back in the pillows again, pulling the angel down with him so they don't have to part. He opens his mouth, giving Castiel's tongue access to the wet cavern, and moans when that muscle slides past his lips. He spreads his legs enough to let the angel lay between them, which he does immediately. Their erections brush, the hunter bucking up into Cas with a gasp. Without breaking the battle of their tongues, Castiel rids them of their boxers. Their flesh slides against one another, warm and smooth, and their hands roam the plains set before them. Nails scratch lightly, teeth nip, tongues lick trails, and fingers pinch nipples. Sweat is beginning to dampen their skin, Dean moaning loudly when Castiel sucks on his earlobe.

“Cas,” he gasps out. “Fuck! Ah... C-Cas please...”

“Mm... patience, my mate.”

His hands slide down Dean's torso, around his straining erection, and along his inner thighs. Dean shivers at the contact, reaching to grab Castiel's ass. He grinds them together, humming in appreciation at the electricity along his spine. The tingle is delicious and he wants more. One hand is flung toward the bedside table out of habit, opening a drawer to search for a bottle of lube. Surprisingly, his fingers come across one. The hunter pulls it out and tucks it into Castiel's hand eagerly.

Knowing exactly what the other wants, Cas starts to prep him. Dean doesn't hold back a single shout of pleasure, glad they're in the middle of nowhere. When his prostate is tapped by his lover's fingertips, Dean's body arches and he sucks in a sharp breath. Hands fisting in the bedsheets, he let's his mouth open a bit and his green pools roll back with a groan. That's enough for Cas, who quickly slathers lubricant on his hardened sex. Without further prompting from Dean, the angel thrusts himself into the hunter beneath him. Plump lips part as Dean cries out in pleasure.

“Cas!” he screams. “Oh, Cas... fuck... ah! P-please... don't tease me... Hah... ah, fuck... just... just fuck me!”

With a cocky little smirk, Cas draws his girth out before slamming back in. By now he knows his lover's body well, he can slam into that sweet spot continuously without missing once. One hand ghosts touches along Dean's length, the dual pleasure driving the hunter mad as he squirms. The room heats up during their passionate exchange, filling with grunts and moans and pleas for more. Dean is most definitely not shy about being vocal when there's no one but Cas to hear... not that he's ever been shy before.

He rocks back to meet every thrust, moaning deliciously when Castiel shifts. He gets a better angle, lifting the hunters hips up and driving into him fiercely. As he hammers into his mate, Dean can only go still as his brain short circuits. The coil in his belly is tightening and he's trying so hard to hold back the inevitable release. From his half-aware state, he finds it odd he would take this from the other. He's always been in charge, always had to be the stronger one, and now he's laying down for the angel that's undoubtedly more powerful than him. It feels so good to let go, to place everything in the hands of his mate. If he can't trust Cas with everything he is, he just can't trust anyone. Something clicks within his mind and Dean opens his mouth before he can stop himself.

“I... I wanna... m-marry you,” he pants out.

The comment has Castiel's thrusts faltering a moment. He stills and gazes down at his lover in surprise, wondering where all this came from. He knew the second he saved Dean that the other wasn't the marriage type, had a deep-seated fear of that sort of commitment. The angel was never going to press for anything more than the bond they share now. At the end of his pleasure, the hunter opens his eyes in question.

“Why... why'd you s-stop?” he wonders breathlessly.

“You want to marry me?” Castiel asks in shock.

“... Was... was I n-not supposed to s-say that?”

“I'm just surprised, that's all. I didn't think you were the marrying type.”

“Cas? I _really_ wanna get off, so if you don't mind..?”

“Oh! Yes, of course. Sorry.”

Back to the now, the angel continues to thrust into Dean's tight passage. Losing himself in the ecstasy once more, the hunter sighs and smiles to himself. He can see himself doing this, with this one partner, for the rest of forever. When his body finally stiffens during his release, he grips Castiel's shoulders tightly and presses himself to the angel's form. The muscles against his own bring a sense of safety sex never gave him before. A few more hard thrusts and Cas buries his cock inside Dean, filling him with his fluids in relief. Before his limbs give out, he pulls out of Dean and lays beside him. The hunter curls up against him with a content grin, laying a hand on his stomach.

“So?” Dean wonders once they catch their breath.

“So... what?”

“Do you want to marry me?”

“Technically we _are_ married,” Cas frowns in confusion. “When I created this bond with you, that's exactly what I was doing... marrying you in angelic terms. But if you don't feel that bond is enough for you, I will gladly marry you in the terms of a human.”

“It's not that it isn't enough,” Dean sighs almost guiltily. “I love you, I love this bond... but I'm still human, Cas. Right now, you're my partner and my lover... but not my husband. I can call you my mate, but it doesn't have the same conviction as it does for you. I just... I want to be yours in every sense possible. Does that make sense?”

“... Yes. I understand,” Castiel smiles softly, kissing the top of Dean's head. “Go to sleep, my love. Tomorrow, we'll start looking into this marriage of yours... I mean... _ours_.”

He can feel as Dean smiles against his chest, the happiness radiating along their bond nothing like Dean has ever felt before. It pleases Cas to know he was responsible for it, the blue-eyed man holding his mate tightly as he drifts off into the arms of sleep. As they lay there, Castiel wonders if he should allow Sam and Gabriel to visit for this. It might be bad for Dean's recovery, but he wouldn't want the other Winchester to miss this.

The next day, Dean is in town early. He meets up with Harry and a younger man named Tristan at the docks, both of whom are eager to head out and waste the day upon the sea. This time, they're going to a cove to dive for oysters. It's something Dean's never done before, so he tags along out of curiosity. The cove isn't far from where they were positioned yesterday, but surrounded by cliffs and a waterfall. It's beautiful and Dean can't help staring at it for a short while.

“You okay, boy?” Harry wonders.

“Yeah, I'm really good,” the hunter smiles widely. “I just... I don't find a lot of relaxing places like this. It's a nice escape.”

“Hell yeah it is!” Tristan laughs.

His eyes are a muddy brown and his hair is black. The style is sex-mussed, yet it looks so much better on his lover. The guy is in his late twenties or early thirties, built and lithe much like Dean himself, and there's a joy in his eyes that makes them shine. He obviously has a love of life the hunter lost somewhere between near death experiences.

“You ever do this before?” he asks.

“No, I haven't,” Dean admits. “I was just curious, so I'll hang back and watch today.”

“Nonsense! Best way to learn is getting in the thick of it!” he grins. “No better time then when you have two experienced divers to watch over you, right? Here!”

A pair of goggles, ones that cover his nose as well, and a pair of flippers are thrust into his hands. Apparently, that's all they use. Dean hopes the cove isn't as deep as he's thinking it is, he can't hold his breath that long as far as he knows. The other two strip down to boxers and Dean follows suit uncertainly. Once they're in the cool waters, he watches the two dive down into the liquid. Taking a deep breath, Dean submerges himself as well. Through the goggles, he can see the two kicking down to the cove bottom.

He doesn't remember where the waterfall is located, but it doesn't seem too threatening at the moment. Instead of wandering off on his own, Dean stays close to Harry and Tristan. As the younger male mentioned before, it's best to do stuff like this when experienced divers can watch him. Together, they gather oysters from the cove bottom and stick them into netted bags. Dean doesn't take too many, just enough for a stew that night. He's not greedy, he knows what pissing off the wrong deity will bring him... his brother is banging Loki, after all. What punishment for pissing the trickster god off can _possibly_ be worse than that?

As he heads back up for air, he feels a pressure against his back. He tries to swim away from it, but it's already pulling him toward it like a gravitational pull. Harry and Tristan are almost to the surface, oblivious to Dean's plight. He knows better than to panic, trying harder to swim free with no avail. The waterfall has caught him and is sweeping him deeper into the water. His chest is beginning to hurt with the lack of oxygen, however Dean still refuses to panic. He knows what that will get him. Before he can pray to Cas, hands grip beneath his arms and he's pulled beneath the waterfall and upward.

The hunter breaks the surface, gasping for much needed air, and finds himself in a small alcove behind the waterfall. The rush of water is deafening this close, but his attention isn't on that... it's on the redheaded mermaid watching him. Her eyes are large against her tan skin, freckles dusting the bridge of her nose, and he can see curiosity in the blue pools.

“... Thank you,” Dean gets out breathlessly. “I would've died if you hadn't of helped me.”

She shies away from him at the sound of his voice, so Dean moves back a bit. When the pull of the rushing water behind him catches his foot, he's yanked back under and the woman dives for him again. This time, she pulls him to the back of the alcove. Dean coughs up the water he swallowed, laughing in between coughs. He can't help it, this is so stupid and shouldn't be happening... his luck is the worst in the world as far as he's concerned. The woman's brows scrunch in confusion, looking between him and the waterfall as though he's lost his mind.

“I'm sorry,” he laughs. “I can't help it. This is just so... stupid! I mean, seriously, how often does this happen? I should be dead! Fuck, I should've been dead the last few times I died! Oh man, I need a vacation.”

“... Are you mentally sick?” she wonders.

“What? No, man, I'm not mentally sick,” he laughs. “I'm just... I don't know. Glad I'm alive, I suppose. I'm Dean, what's your name?”

“Piper,” she smiles.

“You were the one I snagged on the boat, aren't you?”

“Yes. Thank you for freeing me.”

Dean can barely hear the call of the others over the thunder of the waterfall, his green eyes drifting toward the opening a moment. He knows he can't stay here, but promises to come back. Before leaving, he hands Piper one of the oysters he gathered with a smile. She points out a path on the rocks and he carefully pulls himself from the water to take it. He knows she's watching him when he exits the alcove. For a moment, he wonders if she stays there with anyone. It would seem so lonely to be on this island all alone, he would hate to leave her by herself.

“Dean!” Tristan shouts in relief. “I thought you were a goner!”

“So did I,” the hunter chuckles. “The waterfall knocked me into an alcove. Luck is never my mistress, but I'm glad she laid with me today.”

“Damn, boy, you gave us a scare!” Harry breathes. “That partner of yours seems like the type to kill for you, I'd hate to be the target of his ire. Come on, let's get this back to town. Don't want to chance you dying on my watch again.”

They head off to town, but not before Dean glances back over his shoulder. Piper peers past the surface of the cove, waving goodbye to him excitedly until he's out of sight. Before disappearing, he returns the gesture subtly. He'll probably return after a bit, if only to talk to her a little while longer. He knows what it's like to live a lonely existence and certainly doesn't want her to live that way.

Castiel meets him in town again, the angel peering through shop windows as he waits. When Dean jogs up to him, he's confused as to how the other got soaked. With a blush, Dean explains his daily activity to him. Although he doesn't seem particularly happy about Dean diving without an air supply, he allows the other his recreational activities as long as they don't threaten his health. Harry and Tristan are smart enough not to mention the near death experience.

“You all seemed to do rather well today,” he points out.

“Oh! These are for dinner,” Dean states with a grin. “I'm gonna make a stew!”

“Damn, I didn't know you could cook,” Harry says in disappointment. “I would've made you cook lunch for us.”

“Don't worry, I'll bring leftovers tomorrow,” Dean laughs. “Hey, do you two know anything about marriages here?”

The men stop stocking their small stall, turning to face a blushing Dean. Harry wipes his hands with an old rag he keeps handy, eyes turned upward in thought. Tristan is looking between Cas and Dean with a small frown. He wasn't told of Dean's partner, just that the hunter would likely spend the day with them. Apparently, rumors don't spread here like they do back home.

“The church is nice, but everyone normally marries down at the beach,” Harry finally states. “It's usually a nice affair. The whole island shows up, everyone brings a dish, and we all have a party. Pretty much lasts all night. You two looking to make it official?”

“Yeah,” Dean smiles softly. “I think it's about time. I wish my brother could be here, though.”

“I'll talk to him when we get home,” Castiel remarks quietly.

Dean spins to face him, disbelief in his eyes. The whole point of staying here is to be away from the stress Sam causes, yet Cas is willing to allow his presence if only for this life altering event. He grins at his lover and wraps him in a hug, it's completely spontaneous and he isn't thinking about the two watching them. Thankfully, he refrains from kissing the angel in public. Dean clears his throat and backs away, trying to regain his composure as his new friends laugh.

After making sure everything is together for the fish market stall, Dean and Cas head into the restaurant across the way. The bag of oysters is staying in the stall with Harry until Dean's ready to head home, that way they'll stay fresh. Before sitting to eat his own food, Dean takes a couple sandwiches over to Harry and Tristan. Living a pretty normal life is different, but it's something Dean can get used to. Especially when the supernatural aspect isn't trying to kill him. The couple sits down to discuss their wedding, something Cas is leaving entirely up to him. He's already gotten the bond he seeks from Dean, so this should be what Dean wants.

“I don't want anything huge, you know?” Dean states after swallowing a piece of fish. “Just the basics, no fancy get-up, and the party sounds fun. What do you think?”

“Anything you desire, Dean,” Cas smiles. “This is your moment, I've already had mine.”

“So... Sam is allowed to come?”

“I think it'll be okay for the day, but he has to go back to the bunker afterward. I don't want to chance you falling apart, okay?”

“Yeah, that's fair. Hey... I met that mermaid again,” he says in a hushed voice. “Her name is Piper, she saved me from drowning.”

The angel motions for him to quiet, watching the waitress walk over to them. She refills their drinks and strikes up a little chit-chat, leaving the two to tend to other customers. When she leaves, Dean decides it's probably best to wait for the mermaid talk. Instead, they go back to the wedding plans and eating their lunch. Although Cas has no need to eat, he does so if only to keep Dean company. When they're done, the two pay the bill and gather the oysters from Harry. As they step outside the town, the same place Cas took Dean home from yesterday, the hunter steps away from Castiel's hand.

“I don't want to go home yet,” he states. “I want to go back to the cove. Piper might still be there and I promised to go back and talk to her.”

“... Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

He relents and grips Dean's shoulder, taking him to the cove. The area is just as beautiful as it was before, the sun still high in the sky and glimmering off the water. Dean steps up to the edge of the water and cups his hands around his mouth, calling out to Piper. It doesn't take long and her head of red locks surfaces in the center of the cove. She catches sight of Castiel, dipping back down until her nose touches the water.

“It's okay, Piper, he has no room to cast stones,” Dean calls out. “He's my partner, he's just worried about my safety. He won't hurt you, I promise.”

“What's his name?” she asks as she swims up to them.

“Castiel,” Dean smiles. “I call him Cas.”

“... He's an angel,” she murmurs uncertainly. “What's an angel doing with you? I thought you were human... only humans fish in boats like that.”

“I _am_ human,” Dean remarks as he sits down on the sand. “Cas is my lover, I've known him for a long time. I sort of got sick a little while ago, I'm supposed to be healing here... you know... away from it all. It was his idea.”

Piper gazes at Castiel, who hasn't come a step closer to the two. He just stands a few feet away, watching warily as they interact. She knows about angels, about how possessive they can be... how protective... and she's aware how dangerous it would be to try and harm Dean. Not that she wants to, she likes the human. He's different from the others on the island. She pulls herself into the shallows a bit more, making sure to keep herself as vulnerable as Dean is, and flips her tail about in the water playfully.

“What happened to make you sick?” she asks.

“A few years ago, I died and my soul was taken to Hell,” Dean frowns. “Cas saved me from there and gave me a second chance at life. A little while ago, all the shit that happened to me there started coming to the surface. I was starting to lose my mind, but Cas saved me again. My soul is pretty busted up, so he brought me here to relax and heal. He said it shouldn't take long.”

“... You're a hunter, aren't you?”

“Yeah, but not the typical hunter... my best friends have been an angel, who's now my lover, and a vampire,” Dean chuckles. “My brother's best friend was a kitsune. We've decided that supernatural creatures aren't so bad as long as they don't hurt humans. What about you? Do you live here all alone? Don't you have a family or something?”

“... No, I'm a misfit,” Piper sighs. “My sisters like to cause storms and lure fishermen onto the rocks to drown, but I don't. I like humans, they're different and interesting. I see no reason to needlessly kill them, they didn't do anything to us. They stick close to the shores and the cove, but we tend to swim in the deeper waters and we know how to stay away from nets and lines. It's not difficult to share the ocean with them.”

They talk for a while longer, the sun slowly dipping down lower, and then Castiel has to pull the hunter away. It's getting late and he needs to start dinner. Although he's upset at having to leave Piper all alone there, she assures him she still has sisters that talk to her she can visit. She waves goodbye and watches Dean vanish the second Cas places a hand on his shoulder. They reappear back in the cabin, where Dean heads to the kitchen.

Castiel takes a seat on the stool to watch, enjoying the way Dean's body moves about the room. He's so fluid and graceful. As he's distracted by cooking dinner, Castiel disappears to go to the bunker. He needs to talk with Sam and Gabriel. Though he doesn't want to leave Dean without his protection, he knows the island is safe for now. He's placed all sorts of warding sigils around the cabin, so nothing can get into the house unless it's human... and Dean can certainly handle a human.

When he appears in the bunker, he accidentally scares Sam to the point he falls backward over the couch. The other was reading and walking when he showed up, breaking into a run that was blocked by the furniture. Gabriel, who had been sitting at the table at the time, starts cackling at the scene. Castiel is just in time to catch him before he topples off his seat.

“Cas, what are you doing here?” Sam asks as he ignores his lover.

“Dean wanted you to be present for our wedding,” he states. “I thought it would be okay for the day, but only for that day. I still worry about his health.”

“... You're getting _married_ to him?” Sam gawks.

“Yes. Dean asked me last night,” Castiel replies. “The whole island is going to participate, but he doesn't want anything fancy. I'll tell Gabriel when we figure everything out, but I just wanted you both to be aware.”

“I can't believe this,” the taller male murmurs. “Dean... getting married... I mean, wow! I never thought I'd see the day...”

“We'll be there,” Gabriel offers with a smirk.

He pats Sam on the back as Cas disappears again, the angel returning to Dean as quickly as possible. When he gets back, the hunter is spooning out his stew to eat. He grins at Cas and offers him a bowl, the two sitting down together to eat. As they eat dinner, Castiel tells Dean about his visit to the bunker. The hunter is visibly upset at the mention of the place, though he can't be certain it's only because he misses it. When dinner is over, Dean washes the dishes and heads into the bedroom. Castiel isn't far behind.

“Are you tired?” Cas wonders.

“... Not that tired,” Dean smirks.

“Are you certain?”

“Hell yeah. Get your ass over here, tiger.”

The angel chuckles and moves against Dean, drawing him into his arms. One hand drops down to squeeze Dean's ass, the hunter humming to himself as he locks their lips together. They sway, as though dancing to music only they can hear, and Dean begins to undress his lover. Tonight they take their time, hands taking purchase on every inch of skin and mouths leaving love bites everywhere.

They fall to the bed and Dean turns out the light, mainly out of laziness for later. He sighs when Castiel grinds against him playfully, the angel watching his hunter's reactions intensely. He loves this human beneath him, more than anything he's ever loved before. This is where he wants to be for the rest of his life and he's happy Dean is allowing him that.


	12. Love and Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas surprises Dean with the presence of Sam and Gabriel, who have arrived for the wedding. Although he's worried the two brothers might fall into old patterns, it seems the absence has only made them grow fonder of each other. With the festivities in full swing, Cas brings up a topic that he's dwelled on since bringing Dean to the nest. It's food for thought... and it really digs deep into Dean's brain. Unfortunately as the newlyweds finally feel out a happy rhythm, an encounter with Piper's sisters leaves Sam doubting his involvement with Gabriel. His doubt, in turn, has the trickster ready to bolt.

The next morning, Dean wakes with a lighter feeling than he's experienced since he fell ill. He closes his eyes and takes inventory of his mind's vault. He's managed to capture a bit more and very little darkness has managed to leak out, so his soul is cleaning up nicely. Shockingly, it would seem Cas was right. This was the best way to heal. Speaking of the angel, Dean looks around to find him gone. With a slight frown, he climbs out of bed to get washed up. Today he doesn't want to intrude upon Harry's time, so he plans on getting some fishing supplies and just hanging out on his own. He can't get to town, however, until Cas gets back to take him.

Without anything better to do after his shower, Dean heads into the backyard. The pool looks inviting and the garden is ready for the picking, so he decides to deal with that first. He pulls weeds and gathers vegetables, setting the food in a wicker basket. When that's done, he lifts the basket and carries it inside. With a wet cloth, he wipes himself down and changes into some swim trunks. Dean dives into the pool to relax a bit. As he floats in the water contently, he hears a beating of wings and smiles to himself.

“Dean,” Cas greets.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean smiles. “Where did you get off to?”

“The bunker,” Gabriel remarks. “Apparently, you two are getting married today.”

Green eyes pop open and Dean stares in shock at the two newcomers. Sam has his back to the other, gazing upon the cabin Castiel built for Dean. Dean swims over to the edge of the pool and lifts himself out of the water, eager to hug his younger brother. He didn't know just how much he missed Sam until this moment. The taller man gasps when water soaks through his clothes, Dean hugging him tightly from behind.

“Sam! Sammy! Oh, bitch, I missed you!”

“Shut up, jerk,” he chuckles affectionately. “I see you've got yourself a nice place to live.”

“Yeah, it's awesome,” Dean grins. “You should see the inside! And the town is pretty calm... I've been fishing with Harry and we went diving for oysters with Tristan yesterday.”

“Who are they?” Gabriel asks curiously.

“Harry's an older guy with a boat, he likes to fish all day. I just met Tristan yesterday, he's okay. And I met a woman named Piper, she's really nice...”

He pulls Sam toward the cabin as he tells him everything that's gone on since he woke there. It's like an excited child with a parent, but Sam allows it. He's missed his brother too much to worry over dependency. When he steps inside, Dean immediately shows him around. As the hunter winds down and digs out another pair of swim trunk for Sam, they retire to the pool and Sam finally gets the chance to ask questions.

“So... you're getting married, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Dean smirks. “Technically, we're already married, but... I wanted the ring and all that. Cas is really understanding about it, he doesn't care what we do as long as I get better.”

“That's nice,” Sam remarks with a nod. “And this is what you want.”

“Of course it is, why wouldn't I want it? Cas is... he's awesome! Nobody gets me like he does, I trust him with everything I am. I don't think I'll ever find that with another. Last night I just... I knew. It was like a revelation or something, I just knew we're supposed to be together forever.”

Sam waits a few more minutes, taking in that information slowly. They float about the pool, soaking up the sunlight that washes over them. The day is calm and quiet, the surrounding area filled with only the sounds of nature. It's relaxing and beautiful, something Sam wasn't expecting. Castiel really knows how to pick rehabilitation areas.

“Tell me about Piper,” he states.

“She's neat,” Dean smiles. “She's a mermaid. We met when I was fishing with Harry the first day... my hook got tangled in her hair. When I was diving in the cove, I got caught in the waterfall and she saved me from drowning. I'm supposed to meet up with her today, maybe you can come, too.”

“... A mermaid,” Sam utters in disbelief. “Seriously? You befriended a mermaid?”

“She hasn't hurt anybody... even saved me,” he shrugs.

Sam laughs at that; they really are defective. Two hunters befriending monsters and banging angels. He shakes his head and pats Dean on the shoulder, realizing how much he missed these interactions. He never should've pushed Dean away. The shorter male goads Sam into telling him what was going on in the bunker in his absence, the younger Winchester admitting he had been driving Gabriel nuts with his worrying.

Castiel watches the two from the back porch, wary about leaving Dean alone with his brother. Everything is going okay right now, however he's just waiting for everything to fall apart. It always seems to when the Winchesters are involved. Beside him sits Gabriel, enjoying the sight of Sam in swim trunks far more than he should. He's surprised to hear Cas allowed Dean around a mermaid.

“Isn't that dangerous? Letting that thing around him?”

“She's an outcast in her family because she likes humans,” Castiel waves off. “I found no threat in her when I first checked the island. The worst of them are well away from the area the fishing boats frequent.”

“Still... you're putting a lot of trust in this mermaid...”

“I keep a very close watch on him, Gabriel,” he comments. “There isn't anything he does that I'm not aware of. I just don't bring it up, I like him to tell me himself. So far he's been very good at doing so.”

The trickster is impressed at that, yet says nothing more on it. Dean is notorious for hiding things, so to hear he's opening up to Cas is an amazing feat. He returns his gaze to the brothers in the pool. They're horsing around now, laughing and having fun. It's so rare they get this chance to be normal. When Castiel showed up to bring him and Sam here, he had said the islanders were setting up the wedding. He had stopped there first to speak with Harry, the old man assuring him he'd get everything ready. They're just waiting for the other to call the house.

With so few people on the island, every celebration is a 'family' celebration and the family is the entire island. Gabriel used to love places like this, where everyone knew everyone else and they were all on good terms with each other. With the chance for another island wide party, he's eager for the wedding to get started. He's even thinking of asking Sam to marry him. Maybe not now, but when he does this is definitely going to be the place they come for it.

“We should keep this as a vacation home,” Gabriel remarks.

“Yes, it's very nice,” Cas smiles. “The people are all very wonderful and Dean really likes it here. I... I think I want him to retire from hunting and stay here.”

“Whoa! Hey now, that's not something you can choose for him, Cassy,” the trickster comments in warning. “I know you like it here, I know he might as well, but that's _his_ choice. You only get a _small_ amount of leeway when running on instinct with a human mate, so you better think _really_ hard about this.”

“I know, Gabriel, I just... I want him to be safe and this place has such a good affect on him.”

Before the archangel can say more on the subject, the phone rings and Cas gets up to answer it. Dean and Sam turn their attention to their lovers at that point, both having heard the phone. Dean doesn't know who would be calling him if not his brother, so he's curious when Castiel exits the cabin once more. He swims to the edge of the pool and pillows his head on his arms, green pools pinned on Cas.

“Who was that?” he asks.

“Harry,” the angel answers. “He was asking if you would meet him in town. I told him I would get you there as soon as possible.”

“Okay. Hey, Sammy, let's get dressed,” he states. “You'll love Harry, he's hilarious!”

The two get out of the waters and head inside to dry off. Gabriel and Castiel follow them in, however take a seat in the living room to wait. It doesn't take long for the brothers to finish up, the two dressed in jeans and tee shirts... as per usual. Each angel takes their respective lover, disappearing from the cabin to head to the outside of town.

Harry is waiting at the docks, like always, and Dean is quick to run up to the older man. He pats him on the shoulder in greeting, a wide grin on his lips, and asks how the fish are biting. The hunter is surprised to find out Harry hasn't set out yet. He thought for certain the other would've already been on the waves for a few hours.

“In a bad mood or something?” Dean wonders a bit worried.

“Nah, nothing like that. Just had plans for today. Can't be lazy _every_ day, you know,” Harry laughs with an elbow to Dean's ribs. “Who's the mammoth?”

“... That's a new one,” Dean murmurs. “Uh, he's my younger brother. Sammy, this is Harry. Harry, that's Sam.”

“Damn, what the hell did your parents feed you, boy?” the older man remarks as he shakes Sam's hand. “You're taller than some of the trees around here.”

Sam blushes, keeping his mouth shut on the matter. He's used to all the tall jokes and comments; Gabriel's made it his mission in life to figure out every possible nickname he can give him, after all. He thought for sure he ran out, but the new 'mammoth' comment just might give him his second wind. As they talk with the older man, he leads them to the beach. Dean hasn't really been to the beach, so he's excited to go now. When he catches sight of the decorative trellis and all the islanders, though, he stops short in shock. There's a bar set up and a bonfire, chairs scattered about, and lots of flowers.

“Wh-what is this?” he asks, a bit stunned.

“It's your wedding, boy,” Harry smiles. “I got it all together for you, what do you think?”

“I... it's... wow, I can't believe... Thank you so much!”

He fights back tears, clearing his throat to hide it. No one has ever done something like this for him before, it's a touching action that's struck a cord inside him. Castiel kisses his cheek and walks past him, taking his place at the trellis like he's seen humans do a thousand times before. Dean joins him, Sam and Gabriel walking beside him to the crowd before letting him go on alone. The older hunter remembers being in Sam's place when his brother married his crazy fangirl... it was a time he likes to reminisce on when reminding himself he knows better than Sam.  While not entirely true, it still makes him feel better before he does something stupid.

The ceremony is short and sweet, promises exchanged and kisses reluctantly abandoned, and then the party starts. Harry wasn't kidding when he said it goes on all day. Dean's never been so happy, has never been around such joyous people. Drinks are passed around and laughter fills the air, setting an overwhelming vibe of contentment throughout the beach. Everything just feels so right. He plays with the gold band on his finger as he sits in the sand, eyes watching everything unfolding around him.

“Why aren't you with the others?” Cas wonders as he sits beside him.

“Just wanted to watch for a bit,” Dean smiles. “I just feel so good, you know?”

“I can tell, I feel it along our bond,” the angel smirks. “You really like it here, don't you?”

“... Yeah... yeah, I really do.”

“... You don't have to leave, you know,” Cas ventures carefully.

Dean would never admit to it, but he's been thinking the same thing since his first day. This place is perfect, so quiet and calm, and he would love nothing more than to stay here forever. Unfortunately, he's a hunter and that'll never change. Eventually, that life will catch up with him and he'll be pulled right back into it all. He loves helping people, protecting them from the evils of the world they don't believe in, and he can't just abandon them. As much as he'd like to think it's possible, retirement just isn't an option.

“I wish I could, Cas, but... If I'm not a hunter, who am I?”

“You're Dean Winchester, my love... my husband,” Cas states. “You're an older brother, a cook, a mechanic... a fisherman. You're so much more than just a hunter.”

“I wish I could get away from the family business, Cas,” Dean sighs. “But it'll just pull me back in. There _is_ no getting away. I'll die a hunter, there's no escaping it.”

“... Then we'll schedule a vacation for you and Sam every month. You'll return here for a week. I don't want to force you to do anything, Dean, but hunting as frequently as you do is putting too much strain on you. If you won't retire, please just take a week long vacation each month... or should I just kidnap you repeatedly?”

“I don't know, man, I might develop Stockholm syndrome or some shit... my abductor is fucking _amazing_ in bed.”

Cas laughs and pulls Dean closer to him, the two kissing chastely. Sam hurries over, Gabriel chasing him down excitedly, and takes cover behind Dean. He has two drinks in his hands, yet maneuvers perfectly without spilling. One is given to Dean, who takes a deep drink from it, and Sam drinks the other. The trickster wants to molest his lover, it's easy enough to see, however he forces himself to behave while on the beach. Or at least in the public eye. He plops down beside Castiel, eying Sam one last time before dramatically looking away as though snubbing the other.

“Congratulations, Dean, you're finally off the market,” Sam remarks. “Never thought I'd live to see this day. So, how's life as a married man?”

“Exciting so far,” Dean smirks. “Cas is bossy, forcing me to take a vacation every month. How ever will I live with this guy, huh?”

“Vacation? Really?” the tall male says in surprise. “You gonna go along with it?”

“Why not? I like it here and I could use the vacation... Hunting is probably a good chunk of the reason I fell ill. Maybe it _will_ be a good idea to just get away each month.”

The taller male can't argue with that logic, he really doesn't want to chance Dean falling ill again. They sit in the sand for a while longer. The sun starts to fall to the horizon, the sky darkening, and soon the party starts dying down. Dean yawns and stretches, getting to his feet and searching for Castiel. The angel is over by the bar with Gabriel, both sipping on drinks and chatting. The older hunter heads over that way, wrapping his arms around Castiel's waist from behind. The angel turns his head to plant a kiss on Dean's lips.

“Are you ready to go, love?” Cas inquires in that husky tone.

“... I thought I could stop by the cove and see Piper before going,” he comments softly. “Maybe take her a present or something. I found a pink pearl in one of those oysters.”

“All right.”

“Can... Can Sam stay the night tonight?” Dean asks in an uncertain murmur. “I mean, I know you said he couldn't stay, but... he can go home in the morning, can't he?”

“Dean... I don't know, I don't want...”

“We've been doing really good all day,” he pleads. “Please, Cas, just tonight. Please... for me?”

Gabriel can tell the exact moment Castiel learned the most important lesson when dealing with a mate... he sighed in relent and nodded his head. The trickster learned a long time ago that the key to a happy relationship, is bowing down to everything your mate wants as long as it doesn't affect their health and safety. If you don't, you get the couch. If you do... you get laid. And getting laid is the best reward when training your alpha. He should know, he's had many lovers that tried to train him. Tried being the key word. For some reason, he's come out as the _one_ puppy that only gets _worse_ each time a lesson is taught. Like a rebellious child that just can't help himself.

Before leaving for the cove, Dean tells Sam he's allowed to stay the night. The taller male would've left that night, just to give the couple their honeymoon night, but it's been too long since they were parted. He agrees with little argument. The four go to the cove, two of which curious to meet Dean's new friend. When Dean calls out to her, Piper answers quickly. She waves to the hunter and swims over, a bit cautious of the two new visitors. This time, she stays in the deeper waters just in case.

“Hey, Piper!” Dean grins excitedly. “I brought you a present!”

He splashes into the water toward her, his brother nervous on the shores. Piper swims to meet him, a bit anxious herself, and keeps looking over her shoulder. Sam notes this, ready to pull Dean out of the waters at a second's notice. He opens his hand and shows her the large pink pearl proudly. For a moment, whatever is bothering Piper is forgotten. She gingerly takes the pearl and grins up at Dean.

“This is for me?” she asks.

“Sure is!” Dean answers. “I found it in the oysters I got the other day and, well... I don't have a need for it. I figured you'd appreciate it more than me. Anyway... I, uh... I got married today. I wanted you to be there, but that was pretty impossible considering.”

“How exciting!” she smiles widely. “I would really like to talk to you, Dean, but... now isn't really a good time. My sisters are visiting. If they see you here, they'll try to drown you. I might be stronger than the waterfall's pull, but they outnumber me.”

“Oh... okay, yeah,” he says in disappointment. “No problem, I'll come back tomorrow.”

She looks back timidly, catching sight of something in the water, and hurriedly pushes Dean back toward the shore. Sam is there to pull him the rest of the way, noting a shimmer of scales running a good length beneath the water. The moonlight shines off them like the warning of a shark's dorsal fin. It doesn't take much more prompting to get his older brother back to the angels. Although Dean wants to stay longer and speak with his new friend, it's obvious now really isn't the time. Four other mermaids, various shades of colors, peek over the water's surface. They seem less than trustworthy and a shade darker than Piper, yet they're curious and they don't seem angry with her for speaking to him.

The redhead shows them the pearl he gave her, a large smile on her face, and leads them back toward the waterfall. One of the woman stays bobbing within the water, though. Her head is tilted in question as she gazes upon the four. Sam notices that Gabriel is trying his hardest to hide from that gaze. Then it happens... she recognizes the trickster.

“Loki!” she calls out. “Loki, you piece of shit! You said you'd call me! It's been over a fucking century, what's your excuse? Huh? Don't you _tell_ me your brother locked you up again, that excuse is only good for _one_ non-show!”

“... Friend of yours, Loki?” Sam smirks.

“More than a friend, I was his fucking _lover_!” she snaps. “Oh, Callisto doesn't forget men like _you_ , Loki! I don't know who you're nailing now, but they better run before you get bored! You'll just leave them like you do everyone else you screw over!”

With that, she throws a stone at the trickster and dives back beneath the waters. Sam stares in complete shock, the words thrown their way really hitting home. He loves Gabriel... but what if he really _is_ only with Sam out of boredom. Hell, maybe he's only fucking him because it's convenient. The very thought hurts him more than he'd like to admit. He's quiet as Cas takes them all back to the cabin, eyes unable to lock with the golden ones he loves too much.

At the cabin, Dean remembers they don't have a guest room. Castiel, however, spends most of the night surveying the island. As such, Dean just lets Sam share the bedroom and kicks the angels into the living room. It's not exactly the honeymoon night Castiel was looking forward to, but there's always tomorrow night. The Winchester brothers share the large bed after dressing in their pajamas, Sam staring at the ceiling as his older brother gets comfy. When he notices that something is bothering his younger sibling, Dean props his head up with an elbow on his pillow.

“What's wrong?” he asks.

“... Do you think Gabriel is just playing with me?” he asks. “I mean... how is this supposed to work? He's an angel, an immortal, and I'm just a human. How many years before he gets bored? How many before I'm not attractive enough for him?”

“Dude, you seriously love him?” Dean inquires in disbelief. “I thought you were just... I don't know... looking for a fuck buddy or something.”

“You know me better than that.”

The green-eyed man sits up and turns to face his brother. These questions are really troubling him, he can see it in those hazel orbs, and Dean finds he wants to wipe away Sam's hurt. Unfortunately, this is Loki they're talking about. Gabriel is a very difficult man to read, he can play a person as well as any musician can play their instrument. He's faked them out enough times, lying to the Winchesters is probably a second nature to him.

“I wish I could help, Sammy, but... I just can't read him,” Dean admits. “I mean, he's a good liar. He's better than we could ever hope to be and we made a living off it. I guess the best you can do is talk to him.”

“How can I believe a word that comes out of his mouth?” Sam spits out bitterly.

“... He's never really lied to us, Sam,” Dean shrugs. “He let us make our own conclusions. Just... don't give him the opportunity to leave out the answer.”

“It's not fair,” Sam sulks. “Why did I have to fall in love with the fucking trickster god, Loki? Why couldn't I have a nice normal relationship with some pretty young woman like Jess?”

“I hate to tell you this, Sammy, but normal is a highly overused term,” Dean snorts out in humor. “There's really no such thing. A relationship with a pretty young woman will be just as difficult, if not more so, than the one you're in now. At least in this one you know how to kill the guy and no one will think anything of it!”

Sam laughs at that, the sound soothing to the older Winchester. It's so rare that he hears his brother laugh. The two settle back into bed and converse about little things as sleep creeps up on them, neither ready to go under. In the morning, this will be over and the two will be separated again. When they finally do fall asleep, they're wrapped in each other's arms like two children.

The living room is deadly silent when Castiel returns from his quick sweep of the island. Gabriel is sitting on the couch, head hanging and a frown upon his face. It's unusual to see him so solemn and thoughtful, so the younger angel is hesitant to intrude upon his moment. The seat beside him is patted, however, indicating he wants the company.

“What's wrong?” Cas wonders.

“... Have you ever loved someone so much, the thought of them leaving just killed you inside?”

“Yes. I frequently felt that way with Dean.”

“How do you ignore it? How do you lock it away so you'll never feel the pain?” Gabriel asks. “Does it ever go away, or does it get worse? I don't like feeling like this, Cassy. I don't do serious, I never have, but... I want to so damn bad. I want to just give in to my instincts for the first time in forever.”

“Why don't you?” the younger male wonders. “What would it hurt?”

“It would hurt Sam,” the trickster sighs. “I know me, Cassy, I know I'll eventually hurt him.”

“You're already hurting him, it seems... or you wouldn't be thinking this way.”

With a heavy sigh, Gabriel says nothing more. He sets his eyes on the coffee table, the gold distant and thoughtful. As his brother mulls over this new obstacle in his life as a bachelor, Castiel goes to the bedroom to check on the brothers. He's having second thoughts about separating them, yet knows its best for Dean. He'll be all better soon and then they can be together... but not now.


	13. The Things We Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finally confronts Gabriel about his doubts. With nothing else to lose and one foot out the door, Gabriel admits his feelings to Sam... and then tells him it would be best if they parted. As they work out their problems, Dean is back on the island and caught out to sea in a storm. It doesn't take much for the hunter to realize the mermaids are causing it, trying to drown the human that's befriended their naïve little sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my wonderful readers!!!!!!!! I got my first tattoo today! =) It's cute and has black wings like Cas ;p Anyway, my comp is stupid and the cord to recharge its battery isn't working... which means I can't write unless I find a new one =( I'll try my best to locate one, I'm hoping the cord to my old comp will work. Until the next update!!! XD

The next day, Sam and Gabriel leave for the bunker. Their loss leaves Dean a bit depressed, yet he manages to distract himself easily enough. The curtains in the bedroom are drawn shut, blocking out the sunlight and casting a dull pitch in the room. Dean moans as his body slides along his sheets, his pupils eating up the ring of green around them. Castiel is hot and thick inside him, his thrusts inching him along the mattress with each intrusion. The angel is taking his time, drawing out their pleasure to the point Dean's erection is painful. Sweat soaks their skin, the room hot and sticky with humidity, and Dean gasps when his prostate is nailed again mercilessly.

He doesn't know how long they've been in bed, rutting and fucking like rabbits in heat, but he's not about to complain about it. No partner he's ever had has managed to keep him going this long before. Castiel's lips dance along Dean's throat, his teeth nipping and tongue licking, and the hunter groans as he bares the column more. He rocks his hips to meet the angel's every thrust inward, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. His body is so tired, yet he's almost there... almost, just a little further. Cas refuses to touch him, his belly the only thing giving him friction with each drive into him. Dean's fairly certain his mind stopped working halfway through.

“Mm... Cas,” he moans out, the tone risque. “Yeah... right there... mm... give it to me... ah... hah. Ah! Ah, fuck... yes...”

“You sound so beautiful, Dean,” Cas smirks.

His tone is so much huskier than normal; it goes straight to Dean's dick. He almost blacks out in his release, yet Cas pinches it off to stop him. The hunter curses beneath his breath at the loss. His angel is sadistic and he fucking loves it!

“Do I?” Dean breathes out.

“Yes... like a little bitch.”

“Oh... so w-we're gonna play it _that_ way, huh? Mm... hah...”

“Only if you want to be my little bitch, Dean.”

Dean's head drops back onto the pillow, a lewd moan leaving his lips. His legs drop from around Castiel's waist, spreading a bit more to allow him deeper. Dean's tempted to flip them and ride the other, but knows his body is too tired to hold himself up. He pulls the angel down to kiss him, their tongues fighting for dominance that Cas wins without trouble. He drives into Dean quick and firm, drawing a shuddering breath from his lover.

“Well?”

“Yes... ah... yes, I'm your... I'm your l-little bitch,” Dean says breathlessly. “Anything... hah... ah... I'll be anything y-you want me to be, just... just let me cum.”

“You belong to me, don't you.”

“Mm... hell yeah. All yours...”

Cas lifts Dean's hips a bit, changing his angle to stab Dean's prostate full on. The hunter screams out his pleasure, arching his back and digging his nails into Castiel's. Taking a grounding breath, Cas tightens his grip on Dean's hips and starts hammering into the other. He loves the sight of Dean coming undone beneath him. Those perfect green eyes dark with lust, his full lips parted as he pants for air, and his muscles sliding beneath tan skin with each movement. It's a sight he'll never grow tired of. Finally, Dean tenses beneath his fingertips and shivers violently. His release shoots out in streams, powerful and mind-blowing. It sprays over their stomachs and chests, the hunter's toes curling before his vision darkens.

His insides tighten around Castiel's sex, the pressure unbearable, and he quickly shoves himself in a few more times. Yanking Dean down on his cock as he thrusts in one last time, he breathes a sigh of relief when his fluids rush out to fill his lover. The copious amount coats their thighs as they surge out of Dean's entrance, leaving them both wet and sticky there. The two pant in exertion, Cas thrusting shallowly into Dean as he rides out his orgasm. When he finally pulls out, Dean is snoozing on the mattress. He's completely out, likely blacking out from his orgasm, so Cas gently pulls out of him and straightens his position. With a wave of his hand, the angel cleans them both up and dresses Dean in his boxers.

As his mate slumbers, Castiel heads out to survey the island again. Before he does, though, he studies Dean's soul. The patches of darkness are few and far between now, which means he's that much closer to healing. For a single moment, born of his selfishness, Cas wants to open that vault and let out some of that darkness. That wouldn't be beneficial to Dean, though, and he snuffs out that ill-conceived desire quickly. He kisses Dean on the forehead and disappears.

Back at the bunker, Gabriel has been very quiet. It worries Sam and he's beginning to think all those doubts aren't far off from the truth. Be that as it may, however, he sits down with the trickster in the kitchen and sighs. He needs to talk to him; the root to any successful relationship is communication, after all. Gabriel sends him a questioning gaze and Sam takes that as his opening.

“Gabe... we need to talk,” Sam remarks. “And no, this isn't the beginning of a break up speech.”

“Oh good, I was about to run,” the golden-eyed man sighs in relief.

“You've been really quiet,” the hunter continues. “I tried to get friendly with you this morning and you didn't feel like it... what's going on?”

“I'm just... lost in thought,” he answers. “I don't concentrate well when I'm having sex. I don't know if that's a problem for your concentration as well... I'm _positive_ it isn't a problem for Dean... but I really need to think right now.”

“... Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no, Sammy, you didn't do anything wrong,” he states quickly. “You could never do anything wrong. This is all me, I'll be fine. I just need time to think, that's all.”

The taller male seems happy with that, standing up and kissing his trickster before heading off to the library. He's been looking for a job, so he hasn't been much trouble, and Gabriel has taken the opportunity to think about what he wants. When he first slept with Sam, it was an urge he couldn't get out of his head. The golden-eyed man figured once he tapped the hunter, it would go away and he'd be free to mess around. He was wrong. It just made him want Sam all the more. As they continued with their little tryst, he stopped thinking about sleeping around and could only think of Sam. Even when pleasuring himself or in his dreams, there was no other star than the taller man. It's scary and now that he's overheard Sam's conversation with Dean, now that he knows Sam's stuck on him as well, he just wants to leave and never look back.

That'll never happen and he knows it, he'll always be drawn to Sam. The trickster has honestly never had it this bad before, it's always been so easy to walk away from someone. No matter how much he liked them, he never loved them and that made it so simple to turn his back when they needed him. Sam is completely different... he would've died for him that day Lucifer 'killed' him in his illusion. That's probably what terrifies him the most. To know that Sam thinks he's playing with him, even if that's what it started out as, hurts him more than Lucifer ever could.

“Hey, Sam?” Gabriel calls uncertainly.

“Yeah?” the other answers as he walks into the kitchen. “You need something?”

“... Yeah... I need to talk to you. Sit down, will you?”

It's obvious Sam's nervous about the talk, thinking it's the moment Gabriel decides he's had enough fun. The hurt and worry within hazel orbs is yet another knife to the trickster's heart. He knows he has to man up, he has to tell Sam exactly what he's feeling before he loses the other forever. It's Sam, however, that starts the conversation.

“It's okay,” he states. “You don't have to give me the break up talk, I get it. I didn't expect you stick around anyway.”

“Sam, you're not listening to me,” Gabriel sighs out. “I'm not giving you the break up talk. I need to tell you how I feel, it's just really difficult for me. Dean and I are birds of a feather when it comes to the 'love them and leave them' philosophy. With you... I can't find the heart to leave you. I want to keep you, I want to follow my instincts and turn my back on everyone else, I want to mark you and show the world you belong to me... but I can't. It scares me. You're different from everyone else I've ever been with... you're better. I don't deserve you and I just know I'll end up hurting you in the end. I couldn't live with myself if I ever hurt you, Sam, can't you see that?”

“... Where is all this coming from?”

“I... I overheard you talking to Dean,” he admits. “I know it was wrong, but I was bored and... well... when I heard you say all that stuff it felt like I was dying inside. I couldn't believe you would think that... and then I remembered who I am and what my reputation is. I didn't blame you, but it still hurt like hell. I don't want to lose you, Sam, but... maybe it would be best. You deserve so much better than me. You deserve to be with someone you don't have to doubt, that you can trust unwaveringly, and that won't stray out of boredom.”

Sam is quiet at that, hazel eyes watching the turmoil within gold. Gabriel seems so torn up about all this, yet he's a master manipulator. The hunter honestly doesn't know if he should believe him. Before the mermaid, he would've taken Gabriel's side no matter what. He would've trusted him without thought, followed him to the gates of Hell and leaned past the barrier with only Gabriel to keep him from falling. Now, though... Callisto opened his eyes to Gabriel's less than faithful habits. He was happy before that mermaid opened her mouth... why can't he ignore her and be happy again?

“Are you bored with me, Gabriel?”

“No! God no, Sam, I'm not bored with you.”

“Then why do I have to worry?”

“... Why shouldn't you?”

“Gabe, I love you,” Sam remarks. “I do. I can't help that, I didn't feel that way when we first met... you just sort of grow on people, I guess. When we started sleeping together I don't think I loved you, I think it was more 'friends with benefits'. I liked you, but not that deeply. Things changed. If you love me as well, that's great. If not, whatever. Life's too short for all this shit. Now... are you going to stay with me for now, or are you going to run away?”

“I want to stay with you.”

“Then stay.”

That's the end of the conversation, but not the end of Gabriel's inner turmoil. It's easy for Sam to say all that, he's young and only human. Gabriel has lived long enough to see what jealousy and hurt can do to people. With the right transgression, he could completely destroy the hunter. Humans are so fragile and Gabriel's never been gentle, _especially_ with humans. He watches Sam return to the library, his heart heavy with impending doom. It doesn't take eons of life to know how this will end. Sam was right. He'll grow old and Gabriel won't, he'll get sick and die. There's only one way to ensure that never happens... Gabriel has to bind Sam's soul with his Grace, just like Cas did Dean's. The younger angel doesn't know the consequences to that action, but the trickster does.

“Sam!” he states as he gets up and rushes into the library. “Sam, I... I want to create a bond with you. Like Cas did with Dean, the profound one? I want to make one with you.”

“... What's that gonna do?” Sam snorts in humor. “Zap you every time you have an impure thought about some woman or something?”

“No, but... you'll know if I ever do,” he offers. “You'll be able to get the gist of my thoughts along the bond, like Cas always heard Dean's prayers and thoughts. It goes two ways, but Dean's not the brightest when it comes to figuring that shit out. And it's... it's sort of special for angels to make them. This one will be my first and Dean was likely Castiel's first. I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I... I love you. Please?”

It's rare to hear that word tumble from those lips, the look in gold eyes melting Sam easily. The taller male nods his consent and Gabriel reaches for him, drawing him close as they lock gazes. Something warm washes over Sam's body, penetrating him through his every pore and clinging to his soul. He feels numb and tingly, like his body fell asleep... all pins and needles. The warmth within him is almost erotic, touching him everywhere and dancing along his insides. Finally, it pulls away and he watches as Gabriel smiles contentedly. His gold eyes are filled with joy and purpose when he gazes up at Sam.

“Thank you, Sam,” he states. “I feel a lot better now. Hey... can you read my mind?”

Sam frowns and his brows dip in concentration as he searches for their bond. It's a pool of warmth in the back of his mind, one that's practically singing. When he touches it, he blushes profusely at the thoughts emanating from it. He glares down at the impish man before him, his mind a muddled mess of pornographic thoughts. The taller male grumbles to himself and walks back to his computer, ignoring the lustful stare upon his shoulders.

“Is that a no?” Gabriel asks with a grin.

“Yes, Gabe, that's a no,” Sam gripes. “Go wash your brain out with soap and maybe I'll reconsider.”

“Awe, you're no fun. Those thoughts were completely plausible. You'd look damn good tied to the bed,” he offers. “It'll happen eventually, I'll surprise you with it!”

“In your dreams.”

“... Or in yours,” Gabriel snickers quietly. “You never know.”

The sky is dark and threatening right now, the waters surrounding the island choppy. Dean had gone out to fish with Harry that afternoon, but now wishes he hadn't. They were just on their way back in when the sky turned dark. The engine just blew, seaweed entangled around the propeller in a thick mass. There's no way it happened naturally, so Dean is worried the mermaids might be responsible. His green eyes are studying the waters carefully, praying they're only playing a game and they won't try to drown them.

Harry sighs from his seat on the deck, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and his rain attire covering his clothes. Dean didn't bother with rain attire... he'll be soaked through anyway, so what's the point? Carefully, he sits beside the older man and takes the offered bottle. Harry can tell there's something bothering him, yet doesn't press the issue. It's a small favor and it has the hunter wondering if he can't trust this man with his 'family business' stories.

“... This storm ain't natural,” Harry comments thoughtfully. “Came out of nowhere, no warning signs... wonder what's going on.”

“Promise not to throw me overboard or think I'm crazy?” Dean questions.

“Promise, as long as you don't think I'm a tad touched for thinking it's unnatural,” he offers with a grin. “If you do, you won't be the first. No one believes an old fisherman anymore.”

“It's the mermaids,” Dean states. “They're creating the storm to capsize the boats.”

For a moment, the older man stares at him and he's afraid he'll think he's crazy. This wouldn't be the first time someone thought he was crazy... and it likely won't be the last. Just as he's sure the other will laugh in his face, Harry casts his gaze over the waters thoughtfully. When his eyes return to Dean's, he's curious and eager for answers.

“You saw them, too?” he asks. “I thought I was the only one. I just knew they were responsible for all those drownings! No one believes old Harry, though, not a soul.”

“Piper was the first I met, the one that gave me that pearl. She's my friend,” Dean informs. “Her sisters, though... they're not as nice as her. Piper likes humans, but her sisters like to kill them. They're the ones that killed the engine... I think they're after me. I'm sorry I got you into this mess.”

“Don't be, boy,” Harry smirks. “I don't mind. Hey, maybe we'll land ourselves a mermaid before all this is over!”

“It'll have to be a catch and release, man,” Dean chuckles. “Mermaids aren't meant to be captured permanently.”

“I wonder why they haven't bothered us lately,” he frowns. “I mean, before you got here they would drag kids under on the beach. Now, though... they haven't so much as pulled a puppy under off the coast.”

Dean's gaze drops to the deck, the damn within breaking. He tells Harry all about his job, his past, the reason he came to the island, and even his husband. He can't help it, it all just pours out like vomit. Unstoppable and completely honest. The lack of someone to talk to about all this has finally gotten to him. When he's done, Dean cautiously casts his sight over to the other. Harry is stunned, that's easy enough to see, but there's something in his eyes.

“I knew it!” he states excitedly. “I _knew_ they were real! I just _knew_ I wasn't crazy!”

“What?”

“When I was younger, there were a few unexplainable deaths. Some people came to the island and the deaths stopped. I followed them one night, I saw them kill this... this _thing_. It looked human, but it had sharp teeth and glowing eyes. When I told the others, no one believed me. They said I was just imagining things, or dreaming. I _knew_ I was right. So... you're like those people? You know how to get rid of these mermaids?”

“I do, but I can't,” Dean admits. “I'm not supposed to be hunting, I'm supposed to be healing. Because my illness had me trying to commit suicide, all my weapons were taken away. I can't do anything but call Cas to get us.”

“And he's an angel,” Harry says.

Dean nods his head in answer, eyes darting toward movement in the waters. Though it's dark and the rain has started falling, he saw the iridescent glimmer beneath the surface. Something hits the side of the boat and both men freeze. They look at each other, and then Dean slowly crawls over to the railing. He peeks over, locking eyes with a woman beneath the liquid. She has short blonde hair and large brown eyes. He recognizes her as one of the sisters at the cove last night. At the sight of him, she slams her body against the side of the boat again. He's nearly knocked overboard, pushing himself back onto the deck with a gasp.

“What is it?” Harry asks.

“One of Piper's sisters,” he mutters. “I should call Cas to pick us up, she's trying to knock me overboard. I don't want to chance you getting knocked over, too.”

“Sounds good, let's get the hell out of dodge.”

The prayer is sent and Cas catches it quickly, appearing in the boat without a moment's hesitation. Normally, he would wait until Dean is alone. This time, however, there is no time to wait. The mermaid hits the boat a third time, the angel sending a look her way. There's a shriek of pain and her tail flails in the water violently... then she's quiet. Cas smote her without even touching her. It's new to the hunter and he sends an impressed gaze the angel's way. Castiel grips his and Harry's shoulder, transporting them back to the docks along with the boat. It'll need maintenance, but Dean's always been good with motors and odd jobs.

“Thanks, Castiel,” Harry says in relief. “I was a bit doubtful you could save us, but I'm glad I was wrong. Don't worry, I can keep a secret. I'm probably the only islander that isn't hopped up on gossip.”

“I appreciate that, Harry,” the angel frowns. “If you did manage to let it slip, I could wipe their memory clean... but I'd also clean out yours as well. I won't chance Dean getting hurt because of gossip.”

“You take really good care of him,” the older man smiles. “He's lucky to have you, but... why did you leave Heaven for him?”

“I've left it more than once for him,” Castiel states. “I love him, he's my soul mate. There is no place in Heaven, Hell, or Earth that I belong more than at his side.”

The old fisherman is a bit teary eyed at that, likely thinking about his own love. Whether or not that every played out, Dean doesn't know... but he hopes it did and they had a wonderful life together. Cas takes Dean's hand and they're gone. Instead of going to the cabin, though, Dean finds he's at the cove. Piper is laying on an outcrop of rocks in the center of the cove, surprised to see them both. With an excited wave, she slips into the waters and swims over.

When she's close enough, she notes Castiel's rigid figure and venomous eyes. Her pace slows and she decides it's safer to tread water a few feet from the shore. Dean sits down in the sand with a grin, sticking his bare feet in the cool waters. The rain still falls around them, the only reason Piper doesn't mind laying out where the world can see her.

“Is something wrong?” she asks uncertainly.

“Your sister attacked me out on the ocean,” Dean waves off. “It's fine, we got away. How are you? Is your day going good?”

“She attacked you?” Piper gasps. “I told them to leave you alone! You're my _friend_ , they should've respected that! Oh god, now I know what happened to my _last_ human friends. How _could_ they?”

“Calm down, Piper,” Dean frowns. “They're just looking out for you. I can see where they're coming from, I'm a big brother after all. I've done things to protect Sam that he was less than thrilled with. They just don't see the world like you do. Humans are threats in their minds, which means you're in danger being around them.”

She's less than impressed with his explanation, glaring toward the opening that leads to the sea. The redhead is obviously going to have a few colorful words for her sisters. Dean didn't want to cause trouble, he just wanted to talk to his new friend. Now that he's there, however, he can see why Cas brought him. The angel wanted the mermaid to know what's going on. He wanted her to see how dangerous it was for the humans that befriend her, make her take responsibility for their deaths and do something to stop them.

Now that her eyes are open to her sisters' games, Piper is ready to confront them. Dean, however, is worried what that might mean. He doesn't want the fragile looking mermaid to get hurt because of him. In all honesty, her sisters could be looking after themselves only. Piper befriending humans means that humans know where they are, in turn alerting _hunters_ to that location. The last thing they'll want is for hunters to return to the island in search of them.

“I'm so sorry,” Piper sighs out. “I thought I could trust my sisters at least that much, but it's obvious I can't. I'm going to separate myself from our pod completely. Hopefully they'll leave the island alone and move on.”

“Piper, don't do that,” Dean frowns. “They're your _family_. If something happens to you, if you get stuck here or caught, who's going to be there to save you if not them? They think differently than you, that's true, but it's so rare to find a supernatural creature that doesn't abandon someone in their family because of their beliefs. They didn't turn their back on you, don't do that to them.”

Her large blue eyes gaze up at him, pleading for answers that he can't give. In the end, this is her choice and he knows that. Dean just doesn't want her to regret a decision she makes hastily. He's done that enough times himself to know how it feels. Castiel lets them say goodbye to each other, and then takes Dean to their cabin. He heads into the shower for some warmth after the freezing rain, sitting beneath the spray as guilt lays heavy upon his chest. This is all his fault, he never should've made friends with Piper.


	14. More Than One Way to Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the cabin, Castiel once more brings up the hunter retiring. Meanwhile, the new bond between Sam and Gabriel has backfired. Instead of assuring Gabriel he'll stay with Sam, it's only made the other's mortality an even brighter beacon within his mind. The fear of harming Sam has only widened the rift between the two. When Dean finally returns to the bunker, fully healed, the argument has festered. Unable to stand the thought of Sam upset, Dean tries to fix the relationship and gives Gabriel some advice. Though the trickster starts out pleading for forgiveness... things take an unusual turn and Sam can't find it in himself to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more update left, everyone. It's a sad thing, but this fic is coming to an end. I don't have another finished, but I think I'll start posting 'Loki's Cherubs' after this. It's not M rated or anything, but it's freaking cute in my opinion ;p It's the first of a series, things will get more intimate in the coming fics of that series. I can either post that one only, or I can alternate between that one and the newest fic on my plate, 'Walk a Mile'. It's up to all of you =)

Piper is in the cove with her sisters the next morning, waiting for Dean to arrive as promised. When he finally does, the redhead waves as she normally does. He's hesitant to approach the waters, Castiel just behind him and alert for any danger. The redhead is the one that swims up to him. Her eyes are sparkling and eager. When she pulls herself up into the shallows, Dean sits in front of her with a soft smile. The pink pearl he gave her is around her neck, help there by twine she salvaged from abandoned netting.

“Thanks for your advise, Dean,” she says happily. “I decided that you're right. They're my family, no matter what, and I shouldn't turn my back on them for trying to protect me. Instead of sending them away, I've taken my place as the pod leader.”

“Pod leader?” Dean murmurs to himself.

“Hopefully, I can help them understand the importance of co-habitation.”

“That's great, Piper!” Dean grins. “I'm happy you and your family worked things out.”

They talk a little longer, and then the mermaid has to leave. She and her pod are heading out to sea for a bit, a small vacation to bring them closer together. Although Dean's sad to see her go, he knows she'll likely be here when he comes back for his own monthly vacation. Maybe by then he'll be able to bring Sam along.

Castiel quietly pulls him away from the water, the two watching as the last mermaid tail slides beneath the glassy surface, and then takes him to the cabin. The hunter is confused by this, as normally Cas takes him into town for the day. Curious as to the change, he sits down on the leather sectional and pats the spot next to him. The hunter waits until Castiel sits down to face him, an obvious question in his eyes.

“What's with the change?”

“Dean, you're almost completely healed,” Cas sighs out. “Today might be the last day of vacation you have. When I take you back to the bunker, I take you back to the life that caused your illness... I don't want to. I want to keep you here, where you're safe and happy and can live a normal life. I know it's selfish, just as I know I'll take you back anyway simply because you want to go.”

“Cas, this place is awesome,” Dean smiles. “I love it here, but I also know there are millions of lives elsewhere that I could help save. I can't leave them to die like that, not when I know I could help. It would kill me. I promised a week of vacation each month, maybe even more. It's not like we're on the job twenty-four seven, you know, we have a couple months of downtime once in a while.”

“I'm just afraid you'll fall ill again.”

“I know, babe, but you can't fear that forever. If it happens, you'll be there to save me. I'm not worried and you shouldn't be either,” he assures. “We'll take it one day at a time. If I feel like things are falling apart again, I'll tell you.”

Cas nods in agreement, though it does little to ebb the worry. Dean isn't exactly the poster child for sharing his feelings, which means he likely won't say a damn thing until it's almost too late. The angel can only hope the other has learned a lesson during all this... and secretly monitor Dean's soul. With that out of the way, Dean heads out to the garden to keep himself busy. The thought of returning to this place, having it handy in case they should need it, fills Dean with a type of happiness he only felt when living with Lisa. That was a home for him... and now this is, too.

Back at the bunker, Sam is beginning to notice how Gabriel is distancing himself from him. He doesn't like it. Not only is he not getting laid, but the trickster keeps sending him these _looks_. The mixture is uncertainty, sorrow, guilt, and hopelessness. It's driving the taller male crazy. He's almost positive Gabriel is looking to run, but all he gets from their newly formed bond is fear. Finally, he just can't take it anymore. He rounds the corner into the library in the opposite direction of his lover, grabbing a handful of his shirt front and slamming him into the wall.

“Enough,” Sam states firmly. “If you look at me like that one more time, I'm going to scream. I know you're scared, of what I'm not entirely certain, but please just get over it. You have me, I'm not going anywhere, but if you keep ignoring me like this... I might have to step out on you.”

“... You wouldn't do that,” Gabriel frowns. “You're a better man than me. I mean... that's something I'd _totally_ do.”

“Is _that_ what you're afraid of?” he asks in exasperation. “I don't care, all right? Sure it'll hurt my feelings, I'll think I'm not good enough to satisfy you without you looking elsewhere, but I'll understand. You're an angel, I don't know how your libido works. You could probably go for _days_ without needing rest... I don't know... Can you?”

Gabriel gives a halfhearted shrug at that, really not eager to jump into the angelic version of 'the birds and bees' talk. He, himself, has always been quite insatiable... but angels vary depending on status. Since he's an archangel, he has more power to burn... an unlimited supply... which means he probably _could_ go days without stopping. He's never really thought about it before.

“That's not the problem, Sam,” he sighs in relent. “The problem is, I don't want to do that with anyone but you. What if I try to take you until I'm done? What if I really _do_ go days without stopping and you end up _dead_ from the exertion?”

“Are you _serious_!” Sam snaps. “You're really gonna use that as an excuse to blow me off... and _not_ in a pleasurable way! I can't _believe_ you! I thought we already settled all this!”

“I thought so, too, but... Sam, you're _human_ ,” Gabriel finally states. “You're so fragile. I didn't think about it before, because you're a hunter, but... now that you're mine... well... I started envisioning me hurting or killing you because I don't know how to be gentle with humans. You're so fragile and I just... I've never cared to be gentle.”

“You care enough now, don't you?” Sam frowns.

“Of course, I'm just scared I'll hurt you.”

“What the hell do you think ignoring me is doing!” the taller male bites out. “I don't mind physical pain, Gabriel, you can heal that. But don't you _dare_ hurt me emotionally, you piece of shit! Emotionally is where the open wounds fester.”

Before he can say anything more to his furious mate, Sam storms out of the room. He doesn't get far, as Dean appears in his path and throws his arms in the air. The grin on his face is brilliant and his eyes are closed, so he doesn't see the absolute fury in his brother's hazel orbs. Castiel carefully reaches for him, intent on pulling him away from the seething male.

“I'm home!” Dean cries out excitedly, opening his eyes before his grin falters. “And this is probably a _really_ bad time. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Sam snaps. “I'm going to bed.”

“But... I brought fish to make dinner.”

The disappointment is lost upon the taller man, who promptly leaves the room. Dean, convinced Sam is angry he's returned, is trying hard not to let it get to him. It's apparent to Castiel that this isn't going to work, there's already a hairline fracture in his mental vault. He pulls Dean to him and assures him Sam's glad he's back. The younger angel reminds him that Gabriel was left with the other and it could be something _he_ did, even something he said. That seems to calm Dean down, his willpower immediately getting to work on fixing the fracture.

They find the trickster wallowing in self-pity at the kitchen table, head on the surface and hands hanging down to the floor. Dean decides he doesn't like the sight, it's just too weird. With a sigh, he takes a seat across from Gabriel and glances over at Cas. The younger angel isn't sure what to do. He's not the best for giving advice and he's never had to do so with a superior... especially Gabriel... but he takes a seat anyway. Perhaps he'll be better use when it comes to moral support.

“So... what's eating Sammy?” Dean wonders.

“I'm a complete screw up when it comes to relationships.”

“I know how _that_ is,” the other grins. “What'd you do? Call him by another guy's name? Forget your one week anniversary? Buy him something he's allergic to? Dude, the list goes on forever.”

“I told him I was afraid of hurting him.”

He expects understanding from Dean, or perhaps a bit of compassion. What he gets in return, however, is an extended bout of silence. Even Castiel hasn't said a word. It's making Gabriel nervous, as though he really did do something wrong and just doesn't understand what it is. The trickster wonders how Castiel keeps from harming Dean, how he can hold back his power and treat the hunter as though they're both human. He never seems as though he's trying to be careful with him. That's as far as his thoughts get before Dean takes in a sharp breath, his facial features a mixture of disbelief and surprise.

“... Ouch. Go straight for questioning his manhood, nice job.”

“It had nothing to do with his manhood, Dean-o... It was more like questioning his human frailty.”

“Son of a bitch,” the hunter states. “When you fuck up, you fuck up good.”

“I don't understand, what's so wrong with that? He's human, I could seriously hurt, if not kill, him. He's my mate now, how am I wrong in wanting to keep him safe? Cas does the same with you, I'm sure.”

Once again, he's faced with silence and two stares. Cas is obviously questioning his every interaction with his mate, whereas Dean is about to burst out laughing. Castiel has never treated Dean as anything other than a hunter and warrior for Heaven. He loves his mate, but he would never degrade him by pushing him into the roll of a frail human 'bitch'. Even when they have sex, he doesn't stray from the typical way he treats him. He's heard many angels speak of how hard it is not to harm humans during sex, but he doesn't have a problem with it. It's probably because of everything Dean's gone through as a hunter, it's hardened him against the world he's been immersed in.

“Cas doesn't treat me like a damn china doll,” Dean snorts derisively. “I'm a hunter, so is Sammy. We've seen shit, gone up against shit that normal humans would piss their pants at seeing. We're not normal humans. The faster you get that through your head, the better off you'll be. Now... here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna go in there, get on your knees, apologize for being a spastic asshole that can't see how unbelievably lucky he is to have Sam... use those exact words, editing in the proper places... and then you're going to show him just how much he means to you by playing a good little submissive. Don't let him take the lead, but don't fuck him... let him screw you instead. Got it?”

“... How is that supposed to help me at all?”

“Just do it!” Dean growls out. “I'm trying to help you win my brother's affection back, don't fucking question my methods! This is _never_ going to happen again... _ever_! If you fuck this up, I'll happily dance around your dead body!”

The trickster doesn't know what to say to that, slowly getting up from his chair and making his way to Sam's bedroom. He sighs and politely knocks on the door. When he receives a not so polite 'fuck off, Gabriel', he barges in. Sam is on his feet in no time, ready for a fight with his hands balled into fists as his sides. The archangel falls to his knees in front of the other, grumbling to himself before clasping his hands and looking to Sam pleadingly.

“I am _so_ sorry,” he states. “I apologize for being a spastic asshole that couldn't see how _unbelievably_ lucky I am to have you.”

“... Dean told you what to say didn't he?” Sam wonders with a raised brow.

“... Do I lose points if I say yes?”

“No, I'm actually impressed you'd listen to him... He's gotten better at giving advice to my lovers,” the taller male comments, a bit surprised. “So... what was next on his 'get Sam's forgiveness' checklist?”

“... Lots of sex,” Gabriel remarks, completely serious. “Lots of 'Gabriel's the bitch but Sam can't take charge' sex.”

“... Hm... Dean really _has_ gotten better at this. So, what are you waiting for, bitch?” Sam smirks teasingly. “You won't get my forgiveness just kneeling there, get to work.”

The trickster is stunned, yet recovers quickly. With an impish grin Sam's come to love, he reaches over to undo the hunter's pants. He licks his lips as he removes Sam's half hard cock, carefully pushing down his jeans and boxers. The height difference between them is annoying to the trickster, so he gently pushes Sam to sit on the end of his bed. Once the hazel-eyed man is seated, Gabriel spreads his legs and scoots between them. He licks long Sam's shaft, laying light kisses until it hardens completely, and then takes it into his mouth. Sam hisses and lets his head drop back, closing his eyes to the delicious feeling of his lover's hot cavern.

Alternating hard and gentle suction, the trickster works Sam like any other time they've met this way. He bobs his head on the hunter's erection, swallowing him before drawing him almost completely out. It's maddening and the pace is too erratic for Sam to keep up with. Gabriel moves his hands away from Sam long enough to undo his own pants, sliding them off and pulling a bottle of lube from thin air. As he sucks on Sam, the salty taste of the other's pre-cum coating his tongue, Gabriel works himself open with three digits. Sam looks down just in time to see him fucking himself on his own fingers.

The hunter moans and forces himself not to fall back on the bed. When he feels he's ready, a snap of the fingers has them both completely naked. A glance toward the dresser shows their clothing neatly folded atop it. Gabriel stands and sets a hand on Sam's shoulder, walking along the side of the bed with a gentle pressure on the hunter. Following orders, the taller male scoots back on the mattress and lays down. His eyes follow the trickster's every move, the other traipsing back the way he came. At the end of the bed, Gabriel crawls along the length of Sam's body sultrily. He runs his hands along Sam's torso, drawing them back down until they're playing at the insides of his thighs.

Once more they travel up the hunter's body, not stopping with his shoulders, and continue along his arms. Sam allows it, eyes already half-mast and blown wide with lust. His hands are directed over his head, the archangel grinding their hips together in order to hear a sharp gasp. When he's sure Sam is distracted enough, a simple wave of his hand has the hunter bound to the headboard.

“... What the... Gabriel, I did _not_ agree to this!” Sam snaps, suddenly fully alert.

“Yeah, I know,” the other smirks mischievously. “I'm improvising.”

“Untie me!”

“Nope. You're the slick shit hunter, _you_ figure out how to undo the binds,” he waves off.

The taller male struggles a moment, trying his best to get himself untied. It's no use, he's bound by some heavy duty knots. A cloth is wrapped around his wrists to protect his skin from bruising and rash, which is the only thing that doesn't have him screaming for Dean. Well... that and the fact he's naked. A long leg comes up to knock Gabriel away, yet a snap of his fingers has Sam's ankles tied to the baseboard.

“Son of a bitch,” the taller male growls. “Let me go!”

“No way,” the archangel frowns. “You get all pissy with me for not wanting to have sex with you and now that I'm eagerly waiting to ride your cock you want to push me away? Not happening. You wanted the full on angelic mate shit, I'm gonna give it to you. Rule number one... he who has the most power wins the dominant spot. Rule number two... I may be the bitch _this_ time, but _I'm_ the one with the mad angel skills. That means whatever I say goes and you can't do anything about it. Rule number three... You don't get to give orders until you learn how to knock me off my pedestal. And finally, rule number four... payback is a bitch and tonight her name is Loki. You wanna play games with me, just remember... I'm the one that invented them.”

“... This seriously doesn't seem like you're searching for forgiveness,” Sam glowers.

“It started out that way... but then I realized I wasn't in the wrong. I was treating you like an angelic alpha would treat their equally angelic mate. That's what you wanted. Since you decided to go all 'alpha bitch' on me for that, I'm going to teach you what an alpha bitch is like. You should've just stuck with dealing with 'Gabriel', Sammy, because 'Loki' is about to leave you weak and wanting.”

The chuckle that escapes the other is more than just impish... it's slightly sadistic. It really shouldn't turn Sam on as much as it does. The trickster straddles Sam's waist, positioning the hunter's dick at his entrance... and then drops down without warning. Sam sucks in a sharp breath, eyes rolling into the back of his head and body going limp. Humming to himself, Gabriel studies his nails a moment. With a snap of his fingers, something cold appears around the base of Sam's erection. His brows scrunch as he tries to figure out what it is... and then Gabriel is flipping a switch on a remote. It starts vibrating and the taller male cries out in both surprise and pleasure.

Not quite finished with his 'lesson', the trickster snaps his fingers again. Sam's eyes widen at the sight of a large toy, the golden-eyed man wagging his eyebrows suggestively at the hunter. He shakes his head, eyes still large and lips a tight line. Gabriel gyrates his hips, cutting off Sam's protest, and slathers lube on the toy in a thick coating. He reaches behind him and stretches Sam carefully, sliding the dildo into him afterward. One more controller and the toy pressed tight against his prostate bursts to life on the higher setting.

“Fuck!” Sam gasps out.

He works to push the toy out, but Gabriel won't have it. Suddenly, there are two Gabriels and Sam is wishing he were smart enough to have seen this coming. One holds the toy inside him, thrusting it teasingly, while the other starts to ride him. Hands touch everywhere, lips brush against everything, and tongues lave each bare part of his body. Sam honestly thinks he'll have a heart attack. His cock hurts from the lack of release, the vibrators doing a number on him both inside and out. The taller man is lost to the pleasure, his skin coated in sweat Gabriel isn't ashamed of licking up.

Before he can figure out what's going on, he's bent over on the bed and his restraints are gone. Gabriel isn't on his dick anymore, but behind him. The toy is unceremoniously yanked out and tossed to the side, replaced by the trickster's aching cock. The second trickster is in front of Sam, grinning down at him with a questioning gaze. He knows what the other wants, though he's loath to give it. The puppy eyed pout, however, breaks his angry facade and Sam opens his mouth. Gabriel is _so_ going to pay for this. He's sandwiched between the two, his lover's firm thrusts into his ass sending him deeper on the one down his throat. Fingers grip his hair as the second trickster moans openly, the first digging his fingers into Sam's hips as he guides him.

It's all way too much stimulation. The second Gabriel is the first to come, spurting his liquids down Sam's throat and tugging at his hair harshly. He disappears afterward, leaving Sam to entertain his lover. Tired of playing the bitch for the other, Sam knocks him off balance. Gabriel lands on the floor with a cry of surprise. Before he can get back up, Sam has him pinned there. The trickster plays dirty, grabbing the remote for Sam's cock ring. He had lowered the setting so Sam didn't get too far too fast, but now he cranks it all the way up. The hunter grits his teeth and pants as though he's run a marathon, leaning himself over Gabriel's back to whisper in his ear.

“You think I don't know how to play alpha bitch?” Sam asks huskily. “I've been doing it my whole life with Dean. It all boils down to leverage, Gabe, and I know _exactly_ what to use on you. You like sex, don't you? You _love_ it, that's why you're so scared of stepping out on me. How hard do you think it'll be to resist the temptation when I have your ass on the couch for a fucking _year_?”

“You wouldn't.”

“Watch me.”

There's a moment where their wills press against each other, eyes glaring in challenge as they feel one another out. Eventually, Gabriel knows Sam wins this round. He stops fighting the other with a saucy little smirk, happy to have managed what he's already done. Sam enters him and thrusts into him a few times, knowing they're both on the brink of release. He grunts and groans as he pushes into his mate, the trickster removing the ring stopping his release... and Sam's orgasm tears through him like a bull in a china shop. He's never had such a powerful orgasm before, blackening his vision and practically throwing his body into a seizure.

He fills Gabriel with more fluid than he knew his body could manufacture, the trickster moaning lewdly beneath him as he spills on the floor below. Sam tries hard not to collapse on his lover, but it's so hard to hold himself up. Gabriel turns to hold him upright, pulling Sam out of him with that grin that says 'I know I'm in trouble but it was _so_ worth it'. There's no doubt in the hunter's mind he'll do it again.

“Why is it so hard to hate you?” Sam whines tiredly.

“Because I'm fucking _awesome_ ,” Gabriel grins. “You know you liked it, you kinky little slut.”

“If I could find the strength to hit you right now, I would level you so hard,” the hunter warns. “I do _not_ appreciate being called a slut.”

“... Then why is your cock trying to salute me again?”

“...”

“Oh, you _are_ a little kink, aren't you? Fuck I lucked out on you!” Gabriel chuckles. “We need to do this again sometime, I bet there's all manner of shit that'll turn your ass on. I'm making it my goal in life to find and exploit each and every one of them! Your Dean's brother, so there has to be... like... a _billion_ or something.”

“God why did I mate with you?” Sam groans.

“Uh, hello. Fucking awesome, remember?”

The hunter rolls his eyes and promises to get Gabriel back. It's only fair, after all; one mind-blowing orgasm deserves another. He tries to calm his racing heart, his breathing slowly returning to normal, and closes his eyes as he leans on the bed. Taking pity on the hunter, Gabriel snaps his fingers to clean them up and lifts Sam up onto the bed. They're dressed in another snap and Gabriel is leaving the hunter to sleep, exiting the room with a bounce in his step.

It doesn't take a genius to know things went well when he rejoins Dean and Cas, the two reading quietly in the library... and well away from the 'scream' zone, as Dean's labeled it. He grins over at Dean, that sly look known to belong to Loki enough to draw the question from his lips.

“So... you didn't take my advice, did you?”

“I did... in the beginning,” Gabriel offers innocently. “And then I got bored with it. If Sam's gonna be my mate, he has to love _all_ aspects of me. Loki just wanted to come out and play, there's nothing wrong with that. He bared his teeth in the end, anyway.”

“Dude! He's my _brother_ , I don't want to hear all the nastiness involved in your sexual escapades!” Dean shouts.

“Awe, why not? You might learn a thing or two.”

Dean cries out and hastily leaves the room, hands clamped tightly over his ears, and Gabriel cackles at the sight. He takes a seat by Cas, glancing over to see his reaction. The other hasn't even lifted his gaze from his book... which is upside down. Thinking on it, he realizes that Dean's appearance was a bit more rumpled than usual and Castiel's shirt isn't tucked for once. The archangel can't help the laugh that erupts from him. Knowing, without a doubt, Cas had Dean bent over somewhere in this room.

“That's my boy,” Gabriel grins widely as he ruffles Castiel's hair. “You show that bitch who's boss, Cassy!”


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month after healing up and returning to the bunker, Dean is back on the island for his vacation. This time he's not alone, Sam and Gabriel have accompanied him. Piper is back in the cove, but with her comes a tad bit of a snag in their plans to relax. A discovery on her part leaves her vulnerable to capture. She asks the boys for help, which Dean readily agrees to. During his vacation, he has the chance to save his new friend and make someone's dream come true. Will he be selfish and choose his own dream, or will he give up this golden opportunity to help another?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, the end. The last update. No more fic. I'M SO SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!! T0T Anyway, no one has offered up their opinion on what comes next, so I'm going to post chapter 1 of 'Loki's Cherubs' tomorrow. It has more chapters than 'Walk a Mile'... though it's not as m rated... so that's the winner. Should I run out of chapters before it's done, I'll start posting 'Walk a Mile' as well =) Same routine as usual! XD Until next time, my lovely cupcakes! (Sorry, I have Gir on the brain ^^;)

It's been a month, a whole month! Dean lies in the sun, eyes closed to the world around him, and just listens. He's never really been able to do that... just listen. It's not for a target, for a supernatural beast looking to kill him, but for birds and crickets. For the croak of a frog and the wind blowing through the trees. God how he loves that sound! Fresh water is still drying on his body, left from his swim only moments ago, and he can hear the soft snoring of his brother beside him.

He opens his eyes and looks that way, finding Sam sprawled out on his stomach. The towel beneath him barely keeps him from getting sandy. He's been exhausted for a couple days now, left to deal with Gabriel's overactive libido and overly perverted imagination. He's fairly certain even _he_ hasn't come up with so many ways to interact with Cas in the bedroom. A splash from the cove gets his attention, the hunter rolling onto his back to see what's going on. Cas and Gabriel had left for the day to check on Heaven, likely looking for something to keep them busy while the Winchesters relax, so it isn't them splashing in the water.

There's a shimmering tail slipping back into the liquid and Dean's face lights up. For a moment, he shows more caution than delight. Then a head of red locks breaks the surface and Piper waves enthusiastically, swimming toward the shore. She pulls herself into the shallows just as Dean sits down in them. The mermaid turns so she's sitting down beside him, propping herself up with her arms behind her. Dean catches her blue eyes drifting to Sam, a humored smirk playing on her lips.

“That's Sam,” Dean explains. “He's my younger brother.”

“Well he's certainly not your _little_ brother,” she giggles. “How have you been?”

“All healed,” he smiles. “Went home a month ago, went on a few hunts with Sammy. He's been trying to get footing in his relationship with Loki, apparently the guy likes to keep him on his toes. They certainly don't allow for boredom between the two of them. Cas and I have been doing really good... I've been thinking of adopting... you know... a baby? Maybe not a baby, but a kid. I'm not sure, though, it just seems like too much to ask of a kid to go through the same life I did. It's just a thought.”

“You would make a wonderful parent, Dean,” Piper states. “And if you'd really like one... I know of a hybrid merchild that was left abandoned last week. It was born with legs and the mother was appalled.”

Dean is surprised by the offer. It's obvious Piper was attempting to raise it herself, if the sorrow in her eyes is anything to go by, but apparently it's more human than mermaid. He wonders where it is, who's watching over it, and if it's presence forced Piper to stay on the surface so it wouldn't drown. Before he can ask, Sam stirs from his slumber. He's shocked into a wakeful state at the sight of Piper, the redhead smiling in a friendly manner before waving at him.

“Hello, Sam,” she greets. “I'm Piper! Did you have a nice sleep?”

“... Uh... yeah.”

“I sort of figured, the cove is so calm and peaceful. I enjoy my time here as well... it's one of my favorite places on the whole island! Dean and I were just talking about the merchild that was abandoned last week.”

“What happened?” Sam asks curiously.

“It was born with legs and it's mother left it to drown. I found it and kept it safe,” she grins proudly. “I've been trying to raise it, but it can't breath under water and it's too dangerous for me to stay above the surface. I was hoping Dean and you could raise it for me.”

“... What?”

“I understand it's a big decision and you should probably talk to your mates about it, but I would greatly appreciate if you could even find a good home for him. He's such a little pearl, you know? Always quiet and curious.”

“We'll talk to the guys about it, Piper,” Dean assures. “It's getting late though, we need to get back before Harry comes looking for us. I promised him we'd go fishing with him this afternoon. I'll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure!”

They wave their goodbyes and Sam follows Dean sleepily toward town. The bombshell Piper dropped on him is still doing a number on his brain, the sparks flying from the short circuit, and he's not sure how to take it all in. Dean seems to being doing a much better job at that. When they reach the docks, Harry is already loading up his boat. The older man cries out in joy, waving the two down excitedly. True to his word, he never said anything about Castiel and Dean.

As they head out, Dean takes in the new motor with a grin. He's almost positive it's the work of Cas, yet doesn't ask the older man about it. He waits until they've settled in a good spot and cast their lines, the three males lounging on new lawn chairs with a beer in their cup holders. Harry sighs and gazes out upon the waters calmly.

“This is the life,” he says happily.

“Sure is,” Dean smiles. “Hey, Harry... why don't you bring your kid out here? Do they stay with your wife?”

“... Don't have a wife... don't have a kid,” Harry frowns. “Used to have a wife, she was pregnant... she drown off the coast. Went to visit her family, but the boat was sunk in a storm. They recovered her body a week later so I could bury it. I just... didn't have the heart to remarry. She was the love of my life, you know?”

“Damn, man, that sucks,” Sam remarks. “I don't know what I'd do without Gabriel. Well... that's not entire true... I'd definitely sleep more. Maybe have less headaches...”

Harry laughs at that, his head thrown back in joy, and pats Sam on the back. He's stronger than Sam thought he'd be, his wiry frame belying the power beneath the skin, and the hunter nearly falls out of his chair. He sends the fisherman a hesitant smile, surprised at how easy it is to fall into normalcy with the man. The taller male wonders if this is why Dean managed to heal so quickly. He can see how Harry would've helped, his presence is so soothing and full of life and love.

“You ever think about adopting, Harry?” Dean wonders suddenly.

“Thought about it, but... there ain't many kids coming up abandoned on the island.”

“What if I told you I could find you a kid in need,” Dean remarks. “A baby abandoned last week, a little boy. Piper saved him and has been trying to take care of him, but he can't breath underwater. She asked us to find a good home for him, but we can't take care of him. I don't want him living the same life we did, it's not fair. So if you're up to it, I think you'd make an awesome dad. You're close to the water, you can take him to visit with Piper, and he'll grow up on the ocean.”

“Piper... she's that mermaid, right? What's she doing with a human kid?” Harry wonders curiously. “Not that I'm not thrilled she saved the kid.”

“He was born to the mermaids,” Sam answers. “But he was born with legs. Apparently, he's a hybrid that turned out more human than not.”

The older man nods thoughtfully, eyes out on the water. Dean and Sam decide to change the subject, telling him about the hunts they went on after Dean left. He listens aptly as they describe the vampire nest and the werewolf pack, surprised at the ease with which they took them out. Sam also tells him older stories, swapping them for Harry's as though they were both talking about fishing. It's soothing and Dean leans back and lets out a soft sigh.

The trio stays out there for a long while, watching the sun slowly fall and eating lunch right there on the deck. Dean had brought along some sandwiches and chips, making homemade guacamole for dip. As they watch the sun shining off the waters, they hear a loud splash and look over the edge. Piper is hiding by the hull of the boat, a bundle in her arms and her eyes on another boat passing them by.

“Piper?” Dean calls. “Everything okay?”

“That boat over there is looking for me,” she says in a hissed whisper. “I think they saw my tail or something. If they come this way, tell them you didn't see me.”

“Well obviously,” he frowns. “You need to go under, Piper.”

“I can't, I have the baby. If I go under, he'll drown.”

“Piper, I'm right here,” he states. “Just hand me the baby and go under, we'll take care of him until the coast is clear. I promise.”

She looks back at the boat that's turned toward them, nodding frantically and reaching the baby up toward Dean. He no sooner takes it into his arms that she's diving beneath the cool surface. He sits back in his seat, passing the baby to Harry quietly. The baby has the same hair color as him, it's skin a bit more tan than a typical baby from being outside all the time. Piper's taken exceptional care of him, he appears healthy and happy.

“He's a cutie,” Harry says softly. “He'll make a fine fisherman someday, I just know it.”

“That's the baby she rescued,” Sam offers. “The one we told you about.”

“I can see how dangerous it is for her, she's sacrificing much to care for a child that isn't her species,” he muses aloud. “It's commendable, she'd make a wonderful mother.”

The boat comes closer to them, asking if they saw a woman swimming nearby. Harry comes up with a great old fishermen tale about mermaids and how they actually mistook a sea creature for one. They believe him, brushing off the incident before heading back the way they came. When they're well out of reach, Dean calls Piper back to the surface. They agree to meet in the cove, the trio keeping the baby with them for now. The redhead needs the break, she's weary and it's beginning to show.

When they get back to town, Sam takes over the stall at the fish market and Dean takes Harry to the cove. Piper is already there when they arrive, sunning on the rocks. It takes a few times before he manages to wake her, but as soon as she's up she's quick to swim over. Harry sits down in the shallows with Dean, the two waiting on her to pull herself up. They can see how tired she is at that moment, the mermaid having difficulty with that one action.

“Piper, my name is Harry,” the older man remarks. “I'm a fisherman here on the island. I think I've seen you around while on the ocean and... I want to help you. My wife... she died before we could have our first child, so I have no children. I would like to, though... if you would allow me that.”

“... Dean?”

“He'll make a great dad, Piper,” the hunter smiles. “He's already agreed to bring the baby to visit you as often as possible, he lives on the ocean and can teach him how to fish, and the baby will grow up near the place he originated. I would love to take him with me, but it wouldn't be fair to you and it seriously wouldn't be fair to him. I can't raise him like my father raised me.”

“... If you think this man will be a good father to Cam, I'll let him take my baby boy,” she says uncertainly. “But I want to see him daily and... I want to take him out sometimes. The water is good for him. He might not be able to breath underwater, but he's still part mermaid. It's important to hydrate him.”

Dean steps away, letting the two talk for a little while. Harry needs to know what to look for and how to care for the little hybrid. As they converse, the hunter takes in his surroundings. He breathes the fresh air and closes his eyes, feeling the sun soaking into his skin. It doesn't take long and Harry is carrying Cam toward him. The baby clings to him, looking for Piper with wide blue eyes. As the mermaid mentioned before, he's very quiet and still. When he can't see Piper, he sets his gaze upon Dean and gives a toothless smile.

The hunter can't help smiling back, so Harry hands the baby to him. Although he protests a moment, the older man wins out and the baby is nestled in his arms. It brings a warm feeling to his chest as he gazes upon the baby, little Cam reaching out playfully. The sensation the sight brings to Dean is odd and completely new, the hunter finding himself flashing back to when Sam was a baby. Those days were difficult, considering his age, but he enjoyed them. Sam was in need and he put everything he was into raising him. It not only helped his brother and father, but it kept him too distracted to think about the loss of his mother. Now that all that is behind him, now that he's older, holding a little life in his arms feels so right.

“He's a handsome little guy,” he comments. “You're really lucky, Harry.”

“You could be, too,” the older man remarks. “This place, you did good here. I know you got your stuff elsewhere, but maybe you really should think about retiring. You could thrive here, Dean, you could raise a family here.”

“... I would love nothing more than that,” the hunter sighs regretfully. “But I can't. I can't in good conscience condemn thousands to an unnatural death, not when I can prevent it. I was born to hunt, Harry, it's all I know. I'll die with a blade in my hand. I'm just glad I could help you get this happiness for yourself.”

The older man sends a sad look Dean's way, obviously upset he can't seem to let go of the family business. It's his choice though and he'll support it. He doesn't know everything about Dean, but he knows a lot and knows his life has been hard. The two enter the small town and join Sam at the stall. Before they can try to figure out what they need for Cam, their mates appear down the way and roam over to them.

Gabriel practically glues himself to Sam's side, grabbing his ass none too subtly. The older Winchester rolls his eyes, blushing when Castiel pulls him into a kiss. The trickster is the first to notice the baby in Harry's arms, frowning slightly when he catches the mermaid essences within its soul. He glances over at Sam, who shrugs unhelpfully, and then turns to Dean.

“What's with the hybrid?” he asks.

“He knows?” Harry gasps in surprise. “But how could he tell? Will other humans be able to tell? Do I have to worry?”

“No, Harry,” Sam explains. “This is my mate, Loki. He's not exactly human, that's why he can tell Cam isn't a human either.”

“Loki? Like... the Norse god of chaos?”

“The very same!” Gabriel grins widely. “So... what's up with the water munchkin?”

“His mom was a mermaid,” Harry offers. “Left him to drown when he was born with legs, but Piper saved him. She's been trying to raise him, but it's leaving her vulnerable at the surface. I told her I would help her take care of him.”

He nods, impressed with the man before him. It isn't everyday a human knowingly takes in a supernatural creature. This guy has a bright soul, very pure and filled with the love of life. He'll do right by that little creature and the mermaid that's been trying to care for it. Although Dean wants to stay a bit longer to help out, Gabriel agrees to get him everything the baby needs. It'll be in Harry's house by the time he gets back. In the meantime, he offers up a baby backpack. Afterward, they head into the restaurant.

It's a nice little place and they know Dean by name, the waitress hurrying over to greet the couple married upon their beach. She chats with the green-eyed man a moment, and then leaves to get their drinks. When he returns his attention to the table, Gabriel is gazing at Sam with a lovesick expression that makes Dean gag.

“Dean-o, you've been rather lost in thought this last week or two,” he comments without breaking his gaze. “Anything in particular you've been thinking about?”

“No... nothing,” he answers.

“Dean's been thinking about adopting a kid,” Sam provides easily. “I think he should go for it.”

“I'm not pulling a kid into this fucked up life,” Dean frowns. “It was just a thought, wishful thinking, nothing more. It's no big deal, okay? I'm good with how things are now, I don't need to change anything.”

“Dean, if that's what you want...”

“No, it's not. I mean... it is, but... It's just complicated, okay? Let's drop the subject.”

There's no doubt in Castiel's mind that Dean wants a child, but he can also feel how much he doesn't. It's an inner battle going on within him, however the logic is winning out. Although he would like a child, a larger part of Dean refuses to try for one. If another hunter's kid happens to end up on their own, he'll likely take them in... but not a regular human. Their lifestyle will serve to only scar them for life.

Castiel smiles softly at his mate, reaching over to grip his hand in understanding. Dean knows what Cas is thinking, relaxing at his touch. It took him a while to understand just how easy it's become for Cas to read him. Now that he's realized it, it's easier for him to open up to the other. The darkness that plagued him before is still there, locked away in his mind's vault, but it's managed. His vault still cracks every now and then, once cutting a hole deep enough for some of that dark to escape, however he knows enough to step away and take the time to mend himself. His fights with Sam aren't nearly as venomous as they had been. They still argue and they say hurtful things on accident, one argument having caused that cut in his vault, but they're getting better.

Dean knows he'll never be perfect, his condition will always have to be managed at best. He sighs and looks over at Sam, who's gazing out the window lazily. One of Gabriel's hands drops below the table, taking up a home on the taller male's thigh. He innocently moves that hand closer to the other's crotch, making Sam jump in surprise. He sends the grinning man a glare of warning. With a sulking expression, Gabriel's hand returns to the table.

“You're no fun,” he pouts.

“I'm plenty of fun,” Sam argues. “Just not in public.”

“Dude!” Dean says in disbelief. “I'm not deaf, don't make me _want_ to be!”

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam chuckles.

Once they finish up dinner, the Winchesters are taken back to the cabin. It's been altered to accommodate the extra couple, their room on the other side of the cabin from Dean's. Sam says goodnight to his brother and heads to the guest bathroom near his own room. Dean doesn't shower before bed, but draws a bath instead. This is when Cas knows for certain that something is wrong with him. After he gets into the hot water, green eyes turn to his lover invitingly. Castiel doesn't waste any time in joining him, taking his usual place behind Dean. The hunter reclines against his torso, arms curling around Castiel's neck and fingers playing with his hair.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean sighs out.

“And I you,” the angel answers with a kiss to the top of Dean's head.

“Things are good like this, aren't they? I mean... I'm doing good managing all this shit while working, aren't I?” he questions. “I don't have to stop hunting?”

“You're doing as well a job as anyone could. Your hunting is stressful for you and you've had a few incidences, but it takes time to learn what works. We'll get there and your incidences will decrease, I'm sure.”

“... You're just telling me what I want to hear, aren't you?”

“No, not at all,” he assures.

Dean sits up and turns around, straddling the angel's lap and laying his arms loosely around Castiel's neck. He locks their lips together, pulling away to nuzzle Castiel's neck. Things really are going good for them. The hunts are harder, always threatening to break Dean down again, but Sam helps him get through. He sighs against Castiel's skin, setting their foreheads against one another.

“Do you want me to retire?”

“That isn't my choice, Dean,” the angel remarks quietly. “It's yours. I will support your choice, no matter what it may be. I always will.”

“I don't know what to do.”

“You're doing well so far, I see no reason for you to give up hunting... unless that's what you want,” Cas replies. “Should you be looking for a reason, it's unnecessary. You've done more than enough for the world, Dean, you shouldn't need a reason to let the job pass to the other hunters.”

“It just doesn't seem right. I think about it, all the time in fact, but every time I do I get a queasy feeling in my stomach. It's wrong and I know it. Every part of me screams 'no' and only a tiny part wishes I could say 'yes'. I don't know what's wrong with me, Cas.”

There's isn't much for the angel to say to that. He knows what Dean's problem is, it's the fact he was conditioned for the job he performs. It's all he knows and he fears the end of it. The end of hunting means the end of his life, or at least that's what his mind hands him. He's positive the hunter already knows this, so he doesn't point it out. Instead, he holds Dean closer and rests his chin on the green-eyed man's shoulder.

They sit like that for a long while, and then Dean gets out. He dries off and pulls on a pair of pajama pants, walking out into the living room. Sam is already there, lounging along the sectional and flipping through television channels. Dean pushes his legs off the cushions and sits beside him. Though Sam doesn't remove his sight from the flickering screen, Dean is watching him.

“... Hey, Sammy... do you like it here?”

“Yeah, it's great.”

“... Would you want to stay?” Dean asks. “I mean, like, really stay. Stop hunting and retire here.”

“Is it really that bad?” Sam frowns. “Is your illness so terrible you have to retire? I thought you were doing good, Dean. Why didn't you tell me you're regressing?”

“I'm not,” he argues. “It's... just a thought, okay?”

“You're doing well, Dean,” he shrugs. “Why fix something that isn't broken? We'll just continue until we can't anymore, all right? I'll be there to help out and so will our mates, you'll be fine. I promise.”

There's a wash of relief at the assurance, the green-eyed man relaxing into the cushions. Retirement isn't just for him, Sam needed to have a say as well. After all, he'd take Sam with him like he always does. Now that the younger Winchester has added his two cents, Dean feels better about passing up the opportunity. He smiles a bit, surprised when a beer is dangled in front of his face. A glance back reveals Castiel, the angel sending a soft expression toward his mate. Dean takes the drink with a quiet 'thanks', and then Cas hands the other to Sam.

The silence is companionable as Gabriel sits near Sam, the other sitting up long enough for him to take that spot. None of them are really paying attention to the movie. Since Dean returned to the bunker, every moment has been study and mental note taking. Each of them has noted every reaction he's had, every moment his soul has dimmed. The trio has been about nothing but bettering their ability to manage Dean's illness. It's apparent to them that this isn't going away anytime soon.

“You know... I'm lucky to have all of you,” Dean comments. “Even Gabriel... though I say that _very_ hesitantly.”

“Awe, I love you, too, Dean-o!” Gabriel grins.

The hunter rolls his eyes and scoffs, suddenly wondering why he bothered to voice his thoughts. He cries out when Gabriel pulls him closer, planting a kiss on the side of his face. He bats the other away, retreating over closer to Castiel with a glare. The atmosphere is joking, a far cry from what Dean normally immerses himself in, and the angels can see how it affects his soul positively. For now their concerns are assuaged, life can go on and Dean will get better with time. As always, he'll pull through.


End file.
